


Shedding Skin

by The_Lights_Dance_On



Series: Serpents and Hounds [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Baby Harry, Bisexual Severus Snape, Child Abuse, Curse Breaking, Dark Magic, Death Eater Trials, F/M, Falling In Love, Forgiveness, Horcruxes, M/M, Manipulative Albus Dumbledore, Minor Original Character(s), Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), Platonic Relationships, Potions, Psychological Torture, Psychological Trauma, Punishment, Redemption, The Ministry of Magic (Harry Potter) is Terrible, Torture, Veela
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2020-10-13 21:53:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 43
Words: 98,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20589701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Lights_Dance_On/pseuds/The_Lights_Dance_On
Summary: With the Dark Lord comes whispers, and perhaps the most frightening ones of all are those about Severus Snape. Severus Snape who has made men nothing more than blood and bones in duels, but prefers to make his kills from a distance. He can break minds, shred souls, and just leave you dead.The Wizarding World roars in triumph when he is captured, but are shocked when he is not imprisoned. Rather than lock away this dark and mysterious power, the Ministry have made the decision to use his capabilities for their own gain. Snape's reputation does not shake. Deprived of company in a world where everybody knows of his crimes, he is thankful to find that at least someone is willing to accept him. But his new relationship will take him into a world of bitter familial entanglements, eerie ummoving portraits, and an ancient curse that has been afflicting the magical world for centuries on end. As Severus attempts to shed his skin, his new circumstances truly test Dumbledore's idea that love is the strongest magic of all.Or: I was frustrated that nobody properly exploited Snape's potential in canon, and then it turned into a whole idea.





	1. Whispers

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: Snape's potions, particularly those he made as a Death Eater, aren't nice. Some have gory physical effects or disturbing mental ones.
> 
> In this work, the Dark Lord was defeated not by baby Harry Potter, but by baby Neville Longbottom.

The room was bristling with a sort of seething prickliness. The faces were stony at first glance, but there was violence chafing beneath the surface of every blank, court-appropriate mask. Long had the Wizarding World awaited the trial of Severus Snape. 

So united in rage was the room that the shuffling rows of witches and wizards seemed like one, faceless beast, a festering crowd hungry for the thought of some justice. In the first row sat Dumbledore, looking uncharacteristically grave. Beside him sat apprentice Cornelius Fudge, whose violently orange bowler hat seemed out of place in the grim setting. Clustered around them were a series of reporters, anxiously anticipating _his_ arrival.

Behind them were the witnesses. Lily Potter sat perfectly straight. Her red hair was pulled back more severely than it had ever been, her face a set of cold lines. All the expected warmth and compassion seemed to have been purged from her in preparation for the trial. She did not glance at any of the other Aurors, not even her husband, staring straight ahead. Cameras flashed as Sirius Black and Remus Lupin arrived and approached their space upon the bench. Sirius had moulded his face into the expected solemnity, but his eyes held a deepset loathing that was noticeable even amongst all the hatred in the room. Lily muttered a greeting to them out of the corner of her mouth. 

The judge's name was Agrippina Selwyn, a tall old witch with a glittering black shawl draped over her robes. She wore mauve lipstick on thin lips and had a very narrow nose. When she called the room to order, it was in a hoarse, deep voice. 

"Please escort in the prisoner."

Severus Snape was wearing grimy black robes. His hair hung in thick strips of dark grease, and his skin was pale and sweaty. Despite his appearance, he wore an expression of dull contempt that twisted into an outright sneer at the outburst of photographs. His eyes slid over the audience once - resting, if only for a few moments, on Lily - and then focused on Judge Selwyn. 

"Severus Snape," she said. Her voice was harsh and booming. He said nothing, so she moved briskly on. 

"You stand accused of serving the Dark Lord. How do you respond to this claim?"

"I-" Snape rolled the word in his mouth as if it was particularly distasteful - "_plead_ guilty."

Whispers began like furious winds.

"And in the service of the Dark Lord, you were a primary participant in murder and torture?"

"I was."

The sounds rose.

"And in fact, were responsible for inventing some of the potions and spells used in these incidents?"

"Indeed." 

"To Azkaban!" a man roared. There were shout of assent.

"And it was by your persuasion that the Longbottom family were attacked, resulting in the deaths of Frank and Alice Longbottom and Neville Longbottom becoming the charge of his grandmother?"

"I persuaded the Dark Lord of it, yes."

There did not seem to be a silent person in the courtroom now. Snape looked bored and a little glassy, as if he were mentally somewhere else. Judge Selwyn sent an angry white spark from her wand, which banged furiously and effectively silenced the room.

"I understand that this is an emotional case," she said, her raspy voice made rougher in her indignation, "and that the newspapers-" (she shot the crowd of reporters a cool look) - "have greatly sensationalised this man and his character-"

Augusta Longbottom rose to her feet, face taut in fury. She was dressed in a fine mountain of black mourning robes, which served to make Snape's look particularly filthy. "It sound as if you are suggesting that we are responding not to his blatant admission of his heinous crimes, but to the manipulation of media outlets, Judge Selwyn," she said, voice quivering in indignation.

"I take it," said Judge Selwyn, "that this trial will not become a performance of personal offence, Augusta. Even though-" and her voice was gentler - "it may surround personal matters."

Silenced, but hawk-like eyes still fixed on the accused, Augusta sat. 

Judge Selwyn beckoned a man forward and so he came, carrying a large pot. It was, as Rita Skeeter eagerly scribbled down, a Court Pensieve, used only in the highest of high profile cases. Many of the audience leaned eagerly forward as it was placed on the table: it was not a common object. 

A Ministry official to the left of Judge Selwyn came importantly forward and tapped the pot with his wand. The liquid inside began to spill out. It was silver and oddly viscuous, a moth-eaten black around the edges, and like some ghastly bacterial colony, it seemed to grow around reality until it itself gave way. It was with a shaken demeanour that the audience found themselves in a small, dark, stone room.

Lord Voldemort sat before them in a chair. His features were barely human, bone white and seemingly melting into the porous, waxy surface of his skin. His eyes were a vehement red and cruelly intelligent. 

_"Severus," he said, and it was not a question._ The audience started; they had not seen Snape arrive yet. He slunk in, out of the shadows. 

_"My lord," he responded. There was a deferential tone to his voice that was hard to attribute to the complacent, sneering man in front of them, but he did not seem a cowering servant, either. "I wish to discuss the prophecy that I reported to you."_

_Voldemort laughed. It was high and cold. Snape simply waited._

_"Nothing escapes you, does it, Severus?" The snake around his feet slowly unwound, fixing blank, yellow eyes on the Death Eater. "Almost as if you are a Dark Lord yourself ... finding secrets ... filching memories ... tell me, who is it that can lie to Severus Snape? Can Lord Voldemort?"_

_"I am the Dark Lord's servant," Snape replied. He was keeping a watchful eye on Nagini._

_Voldemort snarled. "That is not what I asked, Snape."_

_"I should not think that the Dark Lord has reason to lie, but to tell at his own discretion, as is only fitting of your status. I am your servant. I do not question-"_

_"Quite right," Voldemort hissed viciously, effectively cutting Snape off, "yet you know of things you should know not! Well come, then, Snape! Let me hear your counsel ... you know of the Potters... you know of the Longbottoms." Fury forgotten, his voice became contemplative. "I am partial to the Potter boy, myself."_

_"A half-blood, my Lord," said Snape. "Surely-"_

_"You yourself are a half-blood, are you not?" said Voldemort dangerously._

_"Indeed," said Snape. "And I am not your equal."_

_The fire spat, clawing upwards in suddenly black flame. Nagini hissed warningly._

"No _man is the Dark Lord's equal!" Voldemort hissed._

_Snape lowered his head in assent. "I merely meant, my Lord, that if the prophecy is true, then the boy may be the closest wizard to your equal that could ever exist."_

The audience considered in a series of rustling whispers. Of course, they had all heard … Neville Longbottom …

_"Indeed," said Voldemort petulantly, and now he sounded sullen. It was more worrying than the rage. "I am glad you understand the severity, Severus, very glad indeed ... just recently, dear Lucius had to face the wrath of my wand. He is in such a deep bow he cannot see what is in front of him. In such awe of my power is he, he does not consider that it might be rivalled ... but no. No, I shall trust the stars. This is indeed a threat, and it will be treated accordingly ..."_

_His voice tailed away from that train of thought. "Why is it that you object to the Potter boy?"_

_"His mother is a Mudblood," said Snape carelessly, "and grew less impressive as she grew older."_

Lily flinched. It didn't go unnoticed by James, who placed a shaking hand on her shoulder. 

_"It is a pattern they often follow. But the Longbottoms are a well-respected family, and their power is great. As the prophecy has told, they have already challenged my Lord three times-"_

_"One of my servants did speak to me, Snape," interrupted Voldemort silkily, "and suggest that you have an emotional attachment to the Potters."_

_There was a silence. And then,_

_"I hope it was not the rat."_

_"Indeed it was." Voldemort sounded amused._

_Snape glared, undoubtedly ready to launch into a tirade, and then he gasped._

"What's happening?" Rita asked avidly. She had two quills out now, both scrawling on separate rolls of parchment. Her vicious excitement seemed uncouth amongst the vehement focus in the room. 

"The Dark Lord is invading Severus' mind," said Dumbledore. You could have wrung his voice of sorrow. 

_Snape was panting on the floor by the time Voldemort had finished. He rose up unsteadily, trying to reassert his composed posture._

_"My Lord?" he said at last._

_When the Dark Lord spoke, he sounded more human than they had heard him._

_"We shall go to the Longbottoms."_

Being discharged from the memory was a discomforting experience. There was a moment in which it seemed that nothing at all was real. The whispers rose again. The way _he_ had approached _Voldemort_ \- his composure when speaking to the Dark Lord - the subtle suggestions that his power was great enough to worry You-Know-Who himself - the extraordinary amount of license he had been given - what He Who Must Not Be Named might have seen in his mind! It took several bangs from Judge Selwyn's wand to quiet the court. Rita's acid green quills were scratching into the parchment very eagerly. Remus attempted to murmur something to Lily, but she shook it off like a spider. Her eyes were burning. 

Veritaseum was handed to Snape. He looked mildly irritated but drank it. The crowd immediately began to volunteer questions that his now addled mind could not comprehend. He stared ahead, waiting. 

Judge Selwyn once again had to use her wand to silence them. 

"We have a list of prepared questions," she snapped, "which should hopefully satisfy. If not, the court may pose questions in an _orderly_ fashion at the end." 

It was the man to the right of Judge Selwyn that spoke first. "What was it that was seen in your mind that convinced the Dark Lord to attack the Longbottoms?" 

"Memories of Lily and James Potter," Snape responded dully. 

"And how was that _relevant,_ Mr Snape?" Judge Selwyn boomed down at him. 

"He suspected that I was advocating against attacking the Potters because I cared for them. At school, I frequently suffered at the hands of James Potter and his friends." 

Remus looked guilty; the others did not. Lily shifted. 

"My only emotions towards him are a strong hatred." 

"And Lily Potter?" the Ministry man pressed. 

"I buried all affection and happy memories of her behind Leglimency shields. He was only able to witness our relationship falling apart and the negative emotions surrounding that." 

"Did you convince him to attack the Longbottoms because you care for Lily Potter?" 

"Yes." 

Rita gasped out loud. Lily went very white. 

"Did you serve the Dark Lord willingly?" 

"Yes." 

"Why?" called out Rita Skeeter, rabid in her glee. The reporters squawked their appreciation like vultures, cameras flashing again. 

"I thought, for some time, that I might feel a sense of kinship or comradery with the Death Eaters. When Lily abandoned me, most of the people I could turn to for friendship were embedded in the Dark Arts and pureblood ideology. It was not true. There was no love between us, only suspicion and competition. But by then, the Dark Lord had recognised my talent. I was able to pursue my skill in ways I had not before." 

Even under the Veritaseum, Snape's face had twisted into a sick, longing smile. 

"Someone - someone powerful - thought I was _useful."_

Judge Selwyn looked down her nose in undisturbed contempt, but the man next to her appeared conflicted. There were faces around the room, beginning to exchange glances and shift in cunning. Everybody had heard the rumours, of course, but this sickening insecurity presented new opportunities. 

Of course, there was _use_ to Severus Snape, and now it appeared that he was all too willing to be used.


	2. Fragments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lily thinks back on investigating Severus Snape as the trial unfolds. The verdict is given.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings: corpses, psychological and physical torture (through Potions).

_The bodies were bloated and wet._

_"All Muggles," confirmed the Healer. His face had crumpled in on itself. "You'd think this sort of thing wouldn't happen anymore, wouldn't you? But … well … perhaps we're at the time where it is happening. Dark days …"_

_"Is there anything we might be able to use?" Lily asked. She'd been an Auror for two years at this point. She still didn't want to look at the bodies._

_"Their nerves are under serious strain, and they've ingested some ingredients no Muggle would be able to get their hands on," he replied._

_"What does that mean?" James asked, brow furrowed. "Is someone just force-feeding things to Muggles? That seems a little simplistic for a Death Eater."_

_"There wasn't a Dark Mark," Lily pointed out. She shuddered. "Maybe killing Muggles is just catching on."_

"Who did you mean by 'the rat'?" Judge Selwyn demanded, voice as impressive as ever. 

"Peter Pettigrew," Snape responded tonelessly. Both Sirius and James jumped to their feet.

"We are in a _trial,"_ Remus hissed, tugging at their sleeves. 

"Exactly!" James said furiously. "If he just says things like that, Peter could really be prosecuted-"

"We can ask him more questions about it at the end," Remus implored. James stared back, eyes flaming. "Look, James, this doesn't mean that Peter is a Death Eater. It just means that Snape believes that it's true-"

"It's Snivellus!" Sirius snarled. "His whole thing is Potions. I bet he's got an antidote to Veritaseum-"

"If Snape invented an antidote to Veritaseum for the Death Eaters, then why would all the others have confessed?" Remus pleaded. "Sit _down,_ both of you - they're taking pictures-"

James glared at Snape vehemently. In his glazed state, he could not return it. 

"It's not like he has any sense of loyalty. He was a Death Eater for his slimy self."

"You just _heard_ him say why he became a Death Eater, Prongs, _please_," begged Remus. "If it's not true, that will come out at the end of the trial when we ask him more questions about it." 

James sat down, but very slowly, seething hazel eyes fixed on Snape. 

"Padfoot, please."

Sirius said nothing more, but he remained standing. 

_There was a Dark Mark this time._

_Nathaniel Bones was dead on the floor, his wife a gibbering mess._

_"He _screamed_ \- he screamed that he had _never_ felt more pain in his life, not ever-"_

_The Healers reported that once again, his nerves had been under severe strain. The ingredients in his stomach matched those of the Muggles._

_"The Muggles were test subjects," James said. He stared bitterly at Nathaniel's corpse. The face was screwed up as if he had no peace even in death. "For a potion, it must have been. But what monster could invent a potion like that?"_

_Linda Bones described a dark, long-haired man with a hooked nose and sallow skin. Lily left the room when she identified Severus Snape._

"When did you fully accept the Dark Lord's ideology?"

"I did not fully accept the Dark Lord's ideology."

Judge Selwyn's mouth thinned.

"What did you not accept about it?"

"It is evident that there are pureblood wizards and witches that are weak and talentless, whereas Muggleborns can excel. I myself am a half-blood and can think of no intellectual equal to myself. It is obviously false that your parents' lineage dictates your usefulness." 

The court rustled angrily. Rita eagerly scribbled the quote down, underlining it so viciously that the tip of her quill snapped.

_"You can think of no intellectual equal to yourself?"_ repeated Judge Selwyn. "Does that estimation include the Dark Lord?"

"Yes."

The Ministry officer to her right leaned suddenly forward, earning a perturbed glance. "Could you beat him in a duel?"

"It is possible."

"Possible, then," snapped Judge Selwyn, "that he is indeed your equal?"

"In power."

"So," the man said eagerly, "you're cleverer than the Dark Lord? Even if you might not be able to kill him, you're more intelligent than he is?"

"What about Dumbledore?" a woman behind them cried out. "Are you cleverer than Dumbledore?"

The whispers began again. It was noted that Dumbledore himself simply looked thoughtful. Rita was writing. Lily was muttering.

"He's going to get off," she murmured, and then she repeated it, like a mantra. _"He's going to get off-"_

_Lily could not stand the sobs anymore._

_Fabian Prewett had been clothed in St Mungo's pyjamas. They were hideously colourful. The limp ends of his hair were ginger, but the roots and beard were growing in grey. They looked darker against the fierce whiteness of his face. Crescent moons the colour of bruises were stamped from cheek to eye. They were ringed with red, as if he had been punched in the face by horrific misery._

_The Healer in the room had pink eyes too. "We have to take shifts," she said brokenly. "No-one can hardly stand to hear him, for long-"_

_"What's wrong with him?" asked James. He looked shaken to his core, but his eyes kept drifting, as if pulled there, to the utter wretch of a man on the bed._

_"The Mind Healer says it's like a constant Dementor in his head," said the woman. She folded her arms around her stomach, as if to protect himself. "Stuck in a single moment of highest misery, sort of like a loop, but the loop adds on to itself. Every time it's replayed it's more unbearable because he's already felt it, and it's barely longer than a simple second. They think we might have to mercy kill the poor soul, unless they can find an antidote, but it's so _awfully_ complicated to do something like this, the Mind Healer says, and of course we don't have a recipe-"_

_"Antidote?" echoed Lily. The very thought reduced her stomach to glass._

_"It's a _potion,"_ said the Healer. "Everyone's horribly confused, because things like this aren't generally, are they? But Mr Shacklebolt said that you were the ones investigating the man doing the potions..."_

_The glass shattered._

"If you do not agree with the Dark Lord's ideology, why did you remain a Death Eater even after it was not what you hoped?"

"I felt useful," Snape reiterated. "And I felt powerful. To torture people and know that they were so pathetic that they could not hope to stop me, that hardly anybody could hope to stop me. To know I was needed, that the Dark Lord would feel the loss of me. To know that people respected me, even if they didn't like me, because they knew what I was capable of."

"So you do not feel remorse?" asked Judge Selwyn sharply. Snape began to answer, but he was interrupted by the Ministry man.

"So all you want is respect, is it?" he asked. His eyes were alight with a sort of feverish hope.

"No."

"But you do want respect?" the man checked. Judge Selwyn's nostrils flared.

"Hornsby, this is _hardly_ what we prepared-"

"Yes," said Snape. 

"What else?" asked the man. People were muttering. Lily was shaking her head, eyes bitten with tears. Remus was frowning. 

"What's happening?" asked Sirius. His eyes had been captured by anger. _"What's happening?"_

"I would like to pursue inventing potions," said Snape. "I would like-"

He was cut off again. 

"Do you care who they're used for?" asked Hornsby. It seemed that the whole courtroom stretched forward to hear the answer. 

"No," said Severus Snape. 

_"Ten thousand Galleons," said Kingsley, in disgust. "I guess the rampages don't fund themselves."_

_"Is there _any_ good news?" asked James wearily._

_"We know it was Snape," Moody said grimly. Lily flinched. "He signed the letter. Seems mighty pleased with himself, too. Albus has been down to examine Prewett's mind himself. He's stumped."_

_Andromeda cleared her throat and spoke, voice proper as ever. "If Professor Dumbledore cannot find a cure, then nobody can find the cure. We must make the decision to either send Severus Snape - and, presumably, his Master - ten thousand Galleons in return for his antidote, or we must put the poor man down."_

_"That was Albus' conclusion," said Kingsley, very softly._

_"Well?" asked James._

_"He says it's up to Evans," said Moody, and both eyes were looking down._

"We, the court," said Judge Selwyn, voice quivering at the indignity of the decision, "judge that Severus Snape will not be imprisoned in Azkaban, but shall instead be monitored inside his home. He will work under the Department of Magical Law Enforcement in order to bring hope for the Light, utilising his intellect in the name of the war effort and providing insight into the workings and dealings of He Who Must Not Be Named and his Death Eaters. Severus Snape shall receive imprisonment if he attempts to aid his previous Master or deliberately injures the Light."

_"I'm doing it," Lily snapped. James nodded tensely, jaw set, and looked away._

_She looked Fabian Prewett in the eyes. He barely saw her. He was choking on tears. The sight should have made her feel better, but it did the opposite. _

_"Avada Kedavra."_


	3. Laughs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snape attempts to establish a routine, but Dumbledore is dissatisfied with it.

Severus Snape felt strange. 

Hearing his sentence had been such a relief that the joy had almost pained him. It was like a bath that was too hot. Since then, he had calmed a little, but he noted that he was still shaky and slightly prone to outburst. He had not considered how much service to the Dark Lord had affected his emotional state. 

He considered it now, working in a place not owned by a Death Rater for the first time in _years,_ and Severus Snape _laughed._ It wasn't a happy laugh. In fact, he wouldn't know how to describe it. 

But he couldn't remember the last time he had done it.

The room was cool and dark and spacious, with sturdy cauldrons and a well stocked cupboard, even if it was horrendously organised. His only requirements of the day were pathetically simple - some Dreamless Sleep, and a few basic potions used for healing. The Ministry were as dim-witted as ever, and apparently didn't actually have any specific ideas of what they wanted Severus to do yet. At least the Dark Lord had been somewhat imaginative, especially when he was angry.

Severus would mourn the loss of inspiration and decide what to do about it _after_ he had sorted out the cupboard. It simply could not be allowed to remain in its current state.

He would admit, if only to himself, that he was glad that there were no distant screams of the tortured in the room, or gloating Dark Lords, or even that irritating little rat that used to scamper about him. The room was in the heart of the building - something he knew was due to Dumbledore - but all that meant was that the old man had grown even more idealistic over the years. Even if they were forced to pass the office of Severus Snape every day on their way to work, not a single Auror would ever deign to enter it. They would politely pretend it wasn't there or, worse, craft unpleasant surprises. 

That was alright. He was well equipped to deal with those, now. He couldn't murder the Marauders, as he had sometimes thought of doing, _dreamed_ of doing, but he could certainly defend himself in some remarkably unpleasant ways. 

Potter and Black might not even attempt it. Valiant heroes of the war effort they were now, or so he was told. They had probably grown up, grown out of him.

_Like Lily._

Tossing such thoughts away, he located the Lacewings - with difficulty - and set them to boiling for the most complex of the potions before he started organising. Time efficiency was imperative in the service of an impulsive Dark wizard, and useful everywhere else. He had barely begun to ascertain where to begin with the cupboard when a woman strode in. 

She was very short, Severus noted, and had a mannish, confident gait. Her face would have been vaguely pretty in a delicate way if there wasn't so much expression to it. She beamed at the sight of him, striding forward eagerly as if he was not a tried Death Eater. 

"I'm Hannah," she said. Even though he ignored her outstretched hand, she kept it fixed there. He scowled and irritatedly pressed his fingers to hers. 

"Are you lost?" he enquired. 

She laughed merrily. "No, I'm a St Mungo's employee. In the Potions department - I'm told we're going to be coworkers." 

"St Mungo's," said Severus, coldly as possible. She still didn't flinch away from the tone. "So you were transferred here to keep an eye on me. Or-" and his eye twitched at the very thought - "Dumbledore had you transferred here to befriend me." 

"A combination of both, I think," she said brightly. "And they want you to focus more on inventing and less on the basic day-to-day stuff that I do, so I'm here to help. But all I did was move my stuff into a new office, really, I've been doing this for a while."

Severus gestured flatly to the store cupboard. "So this was your doing?"

Hannah laughed and offered cheerily to help him, but he suggested she continue with the potions. Dumbledore had obviously searched far and wide for someone as relentlessly thick skinned - _and thick-headed_ \- as she was, and that was fine too. She could perform at the required level, he thought, watching her stew the appropriate roots, and she wasn't openly malicious towards him. As long as she respected the organisation he was imposing on her storage system - or lack thereof - he saw no issue with a coworker. 

Assuming, of course, that Dumbledore's efforts to integrate him back into society ended here. Somehow he doubted that, but he had no issue making it plain if necessary. He was not a charity case, it was a failed possibility anyway, and - whether he was being employed by idiots or not - he was going to take his new job seriously. 

Even once the cupboard was sorted out, he had problems on his hands - like what he was meant to _do._

Lunch was a lonely affair. Hannah had tried to persuade him to eat lunch with her friends in the Ministry canteen, but Severus was no fool. Even if her group carried a similar disposition to her, the rest of the employees eating there wouldn't. 

Besides, he enjoyed peaceful lunches of contemplation. It was rare that he had them without something cooling or stewing or boiling behind him, but it had taken him the best of four hours to sort the cupboard by hand. Magic and potions ingredients were a fool's mix. 

On his way out, he stopped at the office of Head Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt, deftly avoided the hex sent his way by Alastor Moody, and enquired as to the current goings-on of the Aurors. 

"You must understand, Mr Snape, that we won't be disclosing any information," Shacklebolt said stiffly. 

"I don't need details," Severus replied smoothly, ignoring Moody growling in the corner. "But to provide useful potions, I need to understand some of your goals. Even in war, I think it unlikely that the Light will find use for creations similar to those I was tried for." 

"As is right," Shacklebolt said sternly, glaring at Snape as if he had expressed deep sorrow that his priorities were no longer that of intense torture. 

"We are currently focused on tracking some down some of your old comrades, Snape," said Moody, eyes alight with fiendish glee. "We can't give you names, of course. A tricky job, I'm sure you can imagine. How about you do some stirring and sprinkling, chop up a few toads, and come up with something that helps with that?"

Snape inclined his head before he could respond to Moody's patronisation of his profession and swept out of the office, raising an eyebrow at a woman who scowled at him. 

It was a strategic choice on Moody's part. There was absolutely no valuable information in that if he was still loyal to the Dark Lord - any Death Eater with brains enough to avoid capture for this long would know the Aurors were searching for them. And, of course, the task was not only difficult, but required a direct betrayal of the most brutal of his former colleagues. 

_Well,_ he thought, as he stepped into the Floo, _it would hardly be the first time that a potion has made me enemies._

The routine settled like dust. 

Hannah was overjoyed with the new store cupboard, even dragging in her friend Petra to admire just how easy to find everything was. Petra stammered out a faint acknowledgment and bolted from the office like a runaway horse, something that neither of them commented on. Hannah's appreciation of Severus' organisation meant that she was surprisingly cooperative for someone that had previously been living in such a mess. Her only transgressions were small ones like turning jars around or sliding one tin in front of the others, and he knew she did those just to see his eye twitch. 

Severus also knew that that was the sort of thing that made her less of a colleague and more of a friend, but that didn't matter. He wasn't hers. She chattered at him seemingly non-stop - about her mum, her sister, her plans - and he didn't respond. That was how it was.

Even if he had places to be and people to date and family to talk to, he wouldn't talk about them.

The only interruption happened after about a month or so, when he had finally finalised the theory and was now moving on to tinkering with the potion. He wasn't looking forward to it. Something as complex as what he was doing would require careful, precise modifications that, to be frank, were tedious. He had hoped that Hannah might be able to help him - when he was a Death Eater, the only two that were at all proficient in potions were Malfoy and Nott, neither of which were particularly interested or had a shred of respect for him - but she had taken one look at his notes and firmly shook her head. 

"You're out of my reach there," was all she said, adding some powdered unicorn horn to her fermenting Skele-Gro. 

So, by lunch, Severus was not in the best mood. It was not the colour he wanted, nor the viscosity. His demeanour was hardly improved by the presence of a small child in his office. 

Hannah hastily levitated her boiling cauldron out of reach, turning off the fire with a sweep of her wand. Severus unfortunately could do no such thing in the midst of his experiment. There was no option but to interact with the child. 

At least the thing was crawling, he thought testily, and therefore unlikely to touch any potions or ingredients, but that was harder to guarantee with magical children. The baby was giggling madly at the sight of its own reflection in the windows of the storage cupboard. 

"Where did it come from?" asked Hannah. 

"Goodness knows," he said irritably. "Who would leave their child in the reach of a potions lab?" she asked indignantly. 

He tilted his head in agreement. "One might as well drop it off at the Department of Mysteries." 

He swept across the room and picked up the baby, wondering if he could drop it at reception without being accused of kidnapping, when it looked up at him. 

_Of course._

The eyes were bright green. And, he thought to himself, the few tufts of hair he had were somehow already unsuitably messy. This was the Potter baby. 

He sneered faintly. He was hardly surprised that James left his child to wander, but Lily should have had the sense to not entrust it to him if he hadn't grown up at all. Lip curling, he threw open the door - hoping to see one of the parents at least _relatively_ close - to see the twinkling eyes of Albus Dumbledore.

"This is your doing," he snapped, practically thrusting the child into his old headmaster's arms. "End this mad mission to create me in your vision, and do _not_ unleash children into potions labs. He could have been seriously injured."

Dumbledore didn't take the baby, instead smiling faintly at it, now playing enthusiastically with Severus' hair as he babbled. He had to tie it up for brewing, which made it something of an easy target when holding a child. 

"The child trusts you," he said, surveying Severus through his spectacles. "He is part of a whole generation that will never remember that Severus Snape was a Death Eater."

Snape felt the rage swoop from his throat to his stomach like a diving bird. 

"And they will be raised by parents who remember all too well," he said, and even he was surprised by the brittleness in his voice. "I am not worthy or wanting of your salvation, nor could I expect to find any hope in it. Leave me in peace."

Dumbledore looked at him very sorrowfully, but took the child. It squeaked in glee and began yanking on his beard. Snape's lip curled. Only Lily and Potter could produce such unmannerly and talkative offspring.

"The biggest issue by far, Severus, is that you do not want it ..." 

There was a long pause, perhaps to give Severus room to answer. He didn't. He had made his feelings clear. 

Dumbledore sighed. "Very well. But-" and his eyes were twinkling now - "you should know that his name is Harry." 

Snape returned to his potion in frustration, wishing he could boil his thoughts of what Lily might say had she known he had held her child along with the Boomslang skin. 

The potion was ready in three months total, a time period that would have surprised Severus had he not spent every waking moment on work. He was pleased to note the absence of Moody when he entered Shacklebolt's office. 

"Mr Snape," he said, deliberately neutrally. "Can I help you?" 

"I came to your office because it is the other way around," said Severus irritably. He placed a vial on the desk. "I have created a Tracking potion that should be able to locate the remaining Death Eaters." 

Shacklebolt picked it up immediately. Severus resisted the urge to tell him the number of potions that could do him express harm if he touched them without the brewer's permission, simply watching. Shacklebolt examined it fairly closely, although Severus knew that he didn't have the expertise to note anything useful. 

"How?" he said at last. 

"If it is drank by someone who has had a strong emotional reaction to the actions of a person - as is probably the case with Death Eaters who have been active participants in the war - the potion can track them if the drinker focuses on the relevant memories. I think it unlikely that I will be able to persuade the potion to interact with maps, but it will provide a memory of the person in their current situation, which should offer clues as to where to search."

Shacklebolt's eyebrows went up. "How?"

Severus frowned, trying to put it into words. "Most tracking spells and potions work on objects," he said at last. "They find links to the person from the object, and are able to find these links again in the present. Of course, any useful Death Eater has precautions against that sort of magic. This potion does a similar thing with memories, which are far harder to protect. There is also the advantage that none of them know that this exists. They will not have specific defences against it." 

Shacklebolt looked at him with an expression Severus did not recognise. He resisted the urge to flinch. 

"Would you like me to improve it?" he asked quietly. His stomach sneered at him, wrestling his insides as if to squeeze something worthy out of them. _You failed you failed you failed you failed you failed-_

"It took you just three months," said Shacklebolt.

And then, he was outstretching his hand.


	4. Dodges

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus has an appointment with his Mind Healer, in which he discusses something that is worrying him. His fears come true when the event leads to a confrontation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter includes a quick narration of general Death Eater crimes such as rape and torture. It is not explored or described in detail.

_Clarissa Pinworth was beautiful in a stern sort of way. She had very hazel eyes and reminded Severus of Petunia Evans, even if the latter woman would have shuddered at the sight of the Mind Healer's lavender coloured hair. He supposed that it was the sharp bone structure and the need for cleanliness._

_Her office felt so sterilised that he might have been uncomfortable if he did not sympathise. The urge to purify _everything_ still overtook him often. He did not voice this to Clarissa. He was certain that she'd have some terminology for it, alongside some insights that would make him squirm. Rather than practice magic as her primary method of treatment, she employed her perceptive nature against her patients, and he resented it._

_She understood him better that anyone since _him_._

_Try as he might, he could not understand her, which was perhaps why he disliked it so much. After the first session, which had left him surprised at its effectiveness, he had asked her why she stayed at the Ministry when she could easily make more money working privately._

"The Ministry gives me cases of people that are like yourself. The ones that most need help, and who many people scorn as beyond helping."

_Clarissa had said that he would be able to understand that sort of thought process more easily after the sessions. He doubted it. He could not remember a time that he had been _good.__

_He did, of course, remember times where he was closer to the common definition of it, which was what he supposed she meant. He had yet to fathom whether he thought that was worth the energy._

_"Is there anything that has bothered you particularly this week?" enquired Clarissa, pulling him away from his thoughts. _

_Severus fought to keep his posture still, and then swallowed. He had promised Dumbledore to endure and make use of the Mind Healer, and regardless of his irritation towards him, he _did_ feel a hideous sense of duty to the man. Not, of course, to make friends, find a lover, or tolerate children in his office, or even to change his demeanour. His refusals to do such things were all parts of his character, not parts that were particularly appealing to other people or to Dumbledore, but he didn't see why that should matter._

_But to loosen himself from the grips of his previous service, become functional, and - the thought landed upon him like spittle from a flame - become _moral _ (or closer to it)- he owed him those things. And he was disinclined to prolong debt to a madman._

_He smothered the thought that he might want to get better because he might want to _be_ better. The thought sounded terribly selfish and terribly naive at the same time._

_Eventually, Severus spoke._

_"I presented a potion to the Head Auror yesterday."_

_"And?"_

_Severus adjusted his position very carefully, so that it looked poised rather than nervous. "I felt that I had failed in his eyes and, despite the lack of any prior attachment to him, that thought injured me inexplicably."_

_"I daresay that it is perfectly explicable." Clarissa was looking at him closely, which was how he knew that she had begun to theorize. "When you say you were injured, what do you mean?"_

_He swallowed. When he spoke, he kept his language as formal as possible. "My heart rate rose, and I became more aware of it than I was usually. I felt it in my stomach, not my chest. Breathing was less possible, though not dangerously so. I felt strongly anxious."_

_"Do you think you know why?"_

_"I think that you know," said Severus, and annoyance coated his voice._

_"Indeed," she said. "But it's something I'd like you to think on for now." She paused, as if expecting him to challenge her. He didn't. He had always been expected to find conclusions for himself._

_"Very well," she said pleasantly. "Is there anything else?"_

_"My fears were unfounded," he said carefully. "And-"_

_Clarissa clearly saw that as a separate point. She noted something on her board and then stared at him expectantly._

_"Once he became aware of my usefulness, he built a new image of me," Severus said, and bitterness simmered in his voice like a particularly nasty potion over a cauldron. "He became acutely aware of the fact that I was young. He kept mumbling to himself that I was essentially fresh out of Hogwarts and too thin. By the end of our conversation - spoken entirely by him, may I add - he had convinced himself of a new Severus Snape. A tragic, tortured genius cruelly abandoned to the Dark Lord."_

_Clarissa nodded. "Isn't that a kinder perception of you that he previously had?"_

Kindness.

_"I suppose," he growled out._

_"So why do you object to it?"_

_"I dislike the thought of being viewed as helpless," Severus said shortly. "I resent the thought that I must be shunted from one box to the other. Villain or victim. It is claustrophobic. It is the thought process that led to my service to the Dark Lord in the first place. And-"_

_There was a long pause._

_"I cannot put it into words," he said stiffly._

Severus stared at himself in the mirror. 

Dumbledore had bought him new robes, perhaps predicting that Severus had more important things to do with his salary. They were still black, and billowing, but more fitting than he usually indulged. There was also an ostentatious emerald green lining, which he was sure the old man had found amusing. His hair was tied back (at Hannah's advice) and his skin was far less sallow than it had been.

He was still not handsome. He was still not innocent. But he looked healthier than he had in months. 

He scowled. He could not shake the feeling that this imposter in the mirror simply was not him. 

_"Try," said Clarissa, in a tone that suggested to Severus that she didn't know what he was getting at either. The grimy taste of victory pushed him to think harder._

_"I struggle with accepting that I am simply not understandable," he said slowly. "That I am too complex for people to go through the process of getting to know."_

_Clarissa arched an eyebrow, and perhaps she somehow saw the turmoil he was working so hard to keep off his face, because she took pity on him and continued herself._

_"Having people stereotype you as one thing or the other plays into this irrationality you have," she said calmly. He knew the tone was to stop him from immediately objecting to her terming it an 'irrationality.' "Because it emphasizes that that person prefers to see you simply."_

_"It is not an irrationality," he snapped. "All my life, I have been in between, and all my life, people have wanted me to be one or the other, and punished me when I was not."_

_"Can you not think of anything that you have done with conviction?"_

_Severus thought, and then he smiled. He mourned what it made him, but there was something relentlessly satisfying in being a kick in the teeth to the world._

_"I had no conviction with conviction," he said. "Serving the Dark Lord, parrotting his beliefs back at him, but without any lust for it like Bellatrix or agreement like Malfoy. Making potions, not caring about morals or ethics, just making. I was apathetic with conviction. It took conviction to take me to the place of not caring about any person, thing or concept."_

_Clarissa stared at him coolly. Severus admired her. Most "good" people would have run from the office._

_"It did not take _conviction,_ Severus," she said. "It took overpowering the most ingrained of your human instincts."_

_He snorted._

_"I do mean that," she said softly. "Please do not think that I don't mean it. I don't think that anyone that wasn't so terribly intelligent could have managed it."_

A single vial of his Memory Tracking Serum. He had never dealt with opulent names like certain Potions Masters. He placed it carefully in the storage container.

_You are not a child,_ he said sternly to himself. _You can do this._

He looked down at the band on his wrist, bared his teeth in his best attempt at a smile, and strode out of the door. 

_"There was another issue that arose from my conversation with Shacklebolt," he said._

_She accepted the dodge, but only to use the information to pounce on him at another time. He knew her tactics. Unfortunately, that had little impact on their effectiveness._

_"And what was that?"_

_"He insists on me presenting the potion myself. Like Dumbledore, he is determined to help me regain my feet in society - now that his mental image is of someone that needs his help, of course."_

_Clarissa looked faintly amused. "Yet you don't object to it as much when it is him," she said._

_She was, of course, correct. He scowled._

_"He is not interested in improving me personally," he explained evenly. This, at least, he was sure she could not read into. "It is for my own good that I gain some more respect in society. And whilst I object to being considered helpless, that is not to say that his help would be disadvantageous."_

_She did not fault his reasoning, but she did write something down._

_"Yet you do not like the thought of presenting your own potion?"_

_He did not speak. Neither did she. Clarissa seemed to recognise that Severus was attempting to say something, even if the words seemed to run and seek asylum in the corners of his mouth whenever he tried to spit them out._

_"There are Aurors," he said at last, "that I do not want to talk to."_

The man was late. Severus felt slight guilt for his irritation. Kingsley had just explained that Hector Bones' wife had been raped, tortured, killed and then left outside his door by a sneering Theodore Nott. The Death Eater had then taken his valuables from the house, shot the Dark Mark into the sky and left - not without carving _BLOOD TRAITOR_ into the man's back, of course. 

Potter and Black had glared at him all throughout Kingsley's explanation of this, as if hoping that their eyes would drill out his thoughts on the torture. His only comments as of current were that it was crude. 

He doubted that thought would be appreciated. 

"That should certainly inspire enough of a reaction to work the potion," he said at last. "Assuming, of course, his reaction was that of an average person's." 

Black snarled. 

Severus sneered. "Can someone get the mutt a bone?"

Judging by the dog's next, jerking movements, Potter was holding him in his chair. 

Bones finally arrived, which was good, because Shacklebolt seemed ready to intervene and Severus felt ready to say something else. Hector stared very balefully at him, and even though he had consented looked very suspiciously at the potion. 

"Concentrate on the memories and feelings you have of the incident," said Snape softly. "The potion will bring them into clarity, but you must have the target in mind. Remember, it is likely to be emotionally painful for you to have the incident brought to the forefront and focused. You must also remember not to think too much of your wife." 

"This is about his wife," Black snapped. 

"It is about Theodore Nott," said Snape coldly. The Aurors all flinched. He supposed to them, the victims were most important. 

He was not here to hunt down victims. 

He turned to address the man again. "I do not know whether or not the potion will try and reach your wife if you do focus on her more than him. At best, it will fail this attempt, and at worst, it may do you severe emotional injury or take your presence of mind elsewhere. Think of the emotions you felt when you lost her, but of _his_ face." 

The man nodded, face set with the sort of ugliness that Severus could understand. 

"I see the bastard's face every day," he said, and swallowed. 

His eyes shuddered and gasped. The rest of his face stayed frozen as if he were paralysed. His tinted pupils contracted in pain, then in rage, and then it was over and he broke down in broken sobs.

Severus did not look at him. He would not admit it, but one of the reasons that he had originally favoured potions was that he did not have to look at his own damage. 

He placed a Calming Draught on the table. "This may help to momentarily soothe him. When he is stable, he should be able to extract the Pensieve memory of his vision of Nott's current whereabouts. Hopefully, this will be useful." 

He bowed shortly and left the room before Kingsley could begin voicing his thanks. He heard the scraping of a chair and turned immediately, assuming it to be Black. 

It was not. 

"Hello, Sev," said Lily, in a voice that was very brittle.


	5. Smiles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus and Lily confront one another, and a new obstacle offers a new acquaintance.

Severus was aware of Kingsley's strained expression, as if he wanted to help him but did not know how. He could see Potter and Black, neither concealing their contempt nor their malice, and both risen to their feet. He could see the other Aurors, not even bothering to pretend they were not watching, with gawking wide eyes and transparently gleeful expressions. 

And he could see Lily, eyes green, and hard like coloured glass, instead of vibrant like they used to be. They used to shine, like leaves and songs and the Killing Curse. He only saw Lily's eyes in her son, now.

_What would Clarissa say about this situation?_

_He should remain composed and keep his head. This was not the appropriate place to have this discussion. They should go somewhere private._

"Perhaps my office," he offered thinly. 

Lily's jaw tensed. "Fine." She walked out before him as if she knew where she was going. Perhaps she did. Potter and Black stormed after her. Severus raised an eyebrow.

"I was not aware that I extended my invitation towards the two of you."

"We all have things we want to say to you, Snape," Potter snarled. 

Severus did not object beyond that. Uneven odds had always been part of the game. 

Hannah was boiling some nettles when they returned, the acidic, sour scent not doing much for the atmosphere of the room. Black curled his lip at the bare walls and orderly store cupboard. "Homely," was all he said. 

Hannah blinked at their arrival. "Do I need to clear out?" she asked, eyeing the Auror badges on their robes apprehensively. 

"If you would," said Potter, his voice lofty and arrogant as ever. Hannah, of course, did not have it in her to take much offence. She simply asked Severus to finish it off her potion ("it's just a Stomach Settling one, a little more potent than they usually need"), and then left. 

"She seems nice," said Lily abruptly.

Severus inclined his head. "Indeed." There was a pause in which he thought she might have been trying to cripple him with her eyes. "I imagine you have things to say."

Lily made a noise that he could not describe. "That's something of an understatement," she said, and her eyes were suspiciously bright. "How could you do it, Sev? How could you? All those Muggles you experimented on - that poor boy without a tongue - the woman turned inside out - the nerves potion - _Fabian Prewett-"_

Severus was glad that the fire suddenly went purple; it meant that the nettles had finished boiling. He was not a fan of coloured flames himself - a true Potions master was too attentive to need them - but it didn't matter with Hannah's simple remedy potions. He sifted the acidic bile-like water into the potion with even more concentration that was strictly necessary, and then set the whole thing to simmering. 

"And then you come here and you help _us,"_ Lily continued furiously, "and I don't understand at _all-"_

"That's what we want to talk about," said Potter suddenly. "No one changes sides that easily, Snape."

"I don't have a side," said Severus softly. He ignored Black's scoff. "Lily - I am not like you. I have not dedicated myself to an ideal and then thrust my talents into it. I am my talent first and foremost. I admit that I ran to the Dark Lord, and Shacklebolt can think what he wishes; I did it willingly. But it was for opportunity - and for hopes of friendship, perhaps." He admitted his past repulsion towards his loneliness through gritted teeth. He already had at the trial, he supposed. "I do not believe in abstract political concepts of good and evil and light and dark. I have known the world far too intimately for that."

"You can't just _not have a side,_ Sev. That's not how things _work."_

"It is, everywhere else," he said, and he forced himself to hold onto the silky, smooth tone. "You chose to integrate into the Lightest of society, where everyone is motivated by moral and ideal." He smiled suddenly, a humourless, wide grin that he knew would disturb her. "Real life is far grimier than that. I daresay fighting a war has shown you-"

Lily had her wand out, pointed at his jugular. He forced himself not to react.

But the minute either Potter or Black brandished theirs at him-

_It might not come to that._

"It was what you _wanted,"_ she snarled. "For me to see the _real world_ or whatever-" 

Severus arched an eyebrow. "Fabian Prewett … the Endless Memory Potion."

_"Coward,"_ Lily whispered. "You never even met him - never saw him - not before or after - and _I_ had to look at what you'd done, _I_ paid for your evil, just like I always have! I had to make the decision, Sev. Did you know that?"

Severus had not. It made him feel a lot of confusing emotions that he decided to unpick with Clarissa later. He didn't bottle them or lock them away - she had warned him about that - but he placed them in a chest, very carefully, like fine things he would take out to look at. 

"It was never my intention that you made a decision about that," he said at last. "My message was addressed to Dumbledore." 

"And he gave it to me," Lily hissed, eyes green as the scales of a brilliant snake. He wanted to turn away, but could not, because he did not dare expose his back to her.

"Do not ask me how his mind works," he said. "His intentions are confusing to me at best."

Lily laughed mirthlessly. "Well," she said, _"well-_ I suppose we all have that to bind us. At the request of our great leader Albus Dumbledore, you're to come and enjoy Christmas with us. There will be laughter, and games, and Secret Santa, and you're to participate in _all of it."_ The invitation was red, and gold - _did they ever give it a rest?_ \- and cut into the shape of a Christmas tree.

"You surely cannot expect that," said Severus, and he felt a sudden flare of panic like the chest of feelings had suddenly burst open. 

Her fingers went rigid around her wand. He did not doubt that Lily would try and injure him, even if there were plenty of non-lethal ways he could stop her if he wanted. He forced himself to stay calm as she whirled back at him, a human hurricane. 

"You have repayment to do, Sev. Lots of it." 

And then she was stomping out, and perhaps Potter and Black were surprised as Severus was, because they left after her. 

That night, he ate dinner alone. The chicken tasted strange in his mouth.

_Dark hair, bright eyes. Too bright for what he was._

_"Put _something_ on your food, Rus."_

"Rus?"

_"Well, you don't like it when I call you Sev."_

_Laughter, and chicken with a horrible cheesy sauce that the fool had conjured all over it. "When my mum used to make it, I loved it - I must have done the spell wrong-"_

_A night of friendship. A night of more._

He threw it out. 

The next morning, he did not have work. His appointment with Clarissa was not until tomorrow, and he didn't want to think about it until then.

He wondered if his new dependence on Clarissa was worrying, and then brushed those wonders aside impatiently. He didn't want to think. He wanted to brew. He had equipped his house with a Potions lab, despite Dumbledore's gentle chiding. The senile old man probably thought that having nothing to do would encourage Severus to socialise. He had doubtless read Severus' mind a thousand times since he had been tried, and it still had not occurred to the supposed genius Albus Dumbledore that he simply did not _want_ people around him. 

He contemplated the invitation sourly, because the only spark of inspiration he had now was his Secret Santa, and he didn't know what he'd give someone if not a potion. Of course, he had an idea- but would it cause offence?

_Even if it did, it would be the best gift I could give._

Miss Chantelle's was a place that would have uneasy repute if enough people knew about it. It was a common visiting place of Death Eaters who still had reputations, a place of technical neutrality that they could go to for jobs that weren't strictly criminal. It was an atmosphere of connections and few questions, gently infused with Dark Magic for sure, but not violent. The Ministry could not complain that he was operating in this circle. 

Miss Chantelle herself was a dark-skinned witch of startling beauty. She had with her a toddler wrapped in a cocoon of robes that Severus suspected were pure gold. He had very big eyes and a remarkably secretive expression, as if she was already teaching him her ways. 

"Severus Snape," she murmured, and it wasn't a question. "I hope that you are not returning to the Dark so soon."

Severus knew that she in fact hoped the opposite. It would give her something to hold over his head. 

He was glad to disappoint.

"You know I am of a certain neutrality, Miss Chantelle."

"I know not what I know anymore," she responded teasingly. "There are many whispers."

"So I've heard," said Severus shortly. He knew it would be more advantageous to read the newspapers, but he did not think it wise for his mental state. "I would like to make use of your web of connections to meet with some werewolves." 

She smiled lazily. "What for? Test subjects?"

Severus grinned the same grin he'd given Lily. He knew it wouldn't anger her, only intrigue her more. 

"As always, Miss Chantelle, you've hit the jackpot."

She watched him for a moment, and then tapped a bell in front of her. It gave off three pink sparks.

"Show my visitor to the parlour, and call on Echo. I have someone to see him."

Miss Chantelle's parlour was tastefully decorated in gold, pink and cream. He sipped on some champagne, rolling the luxury in his mouth, and pretended that he did not see the surveying eyes.

Everyone here was ambitious, political, and willing to make use of contacts. They were wanting to make use of _him._

He could not stop the smile licking its way across his face. _This_ was the feeling he had missed since the Dark Lord's first honeyed words. He scanned the room, posture relaxing. Who would be first? Who would be brave enough to approach Severus Snape?

The woman was tall, with a curved nose and platinum blonde hair that was scraped tightly behind her head and ridiculously ornate black robes. It looked almost like a Muggle ballgown, covered in jewels and feathers and accessorized with taffeta. She gave Severus a keen, intelligent smile and he felt a jolt of attraction that he hadn't felt since-

But that was ridiculous. He could think of no one more different. 

She sat in front of him and fixed him with a stare that decided conclusively that his tastes had since changed. He leaned forward.

"Good morning, Mr Snape. My name is Idina Brass."


	6. Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus' new relationship develops, as do his plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A surprise chapter! I'm enjoying writing at the moment so thought I'd do an earlier update this week.

Idina Brass. A false name, he thought, but in its way, that was even more intriguing. 

"Can I help you, madam?"

She inclined her head and looked up at him through fluttering eyelashes. He was not convinced by the show of demureness in the least. This was a predator if he had ever met one.

She was wearing dangling earrings, long ribbons of gems that looked black when she looked left and red when she turned right. "Hopefully. I am most impressed by your genius, Mr Snape-"

"Genius?"

Her eyes became a little sharper. "I trust your skills were not misreported."

"I make little habit of reading the newspapers babble," Severus confessed. He was aware that she might interpret that as a weakness. That was fine. He could see by her daintily tilted head, almost a bow, that she was ready to ask for a favour. "But you will not find anyone more skilful than me, I can promise you that."

She smiled triumphantly, but kept her eyes up, searching him imploringly. The feeling was delectable. He was aware that his response was a potentially unhealthy mix of his desire to be needed and personal attraction to Idina, but he told himself that did not matter in the moment. 

"I understand you have come here with an interest in werewolves."

_Impressive._

She was either an extreme magical talent - because Miss Chantelle did not take kindly to eavesdroppers, and was a formidable witch in her own right - or she had a web of connections capable of ensnaring the spiders themselves. He felt his sense of admiration increase, and then shook himself irritably. It was not like him to be enamoured so quickly.

_Perhaps Dumbledore had put something in his food._

"I too have one," Idina pressed. "A dear contact of mine has a very young daughter who was recently bitten. The poor girl has contracted lycanthropy. Understandably, my friend and her wife are incredibly distressed and are desperate for help. I was wondering if any of your own business could provide something of a soothing nature."

A contact and a friend. So of personal connection to Idina, but useful. He caught the subtle implication that this woman and her partner would respond with gratitude and so, presumably, would Miss Brass.

That was quite enough to convince him. 

Severus sipped his champagne again, a fierce thrum of victorious desire beginning to burn. The slump of Ministry potions and the feeble admiration of that fool Kingsley Shacklebolt paled, stuttered, and then faded into nothing. _This_ was his new life. _This_ is what he would become, free of Dark Lords and, eventually, free of Dumbledore. Perhaps he would pay penance all his life, a slave to that little dark room and Hannah's chatter, but _this_ would sustain him through all of that. 

"I believe that Fate has introduced you to someone who can indeed help," he said silkily. "But what would I receive in return?"

Idina abandoned the pretence of staring up at him through her eyelashes and met his eyes. He was glad of it; it suited her far better. "As I said, Mr Snape, I am remarkably impressed. I was wondering if a more … permanent arrangement could be set up between us. I assure you that I offer remarkable uses of my own."

"I do not doubt it," said Severus softly. "But please, elaborate."

She laughed. Perhaps she could see the desire, a ferocious amalgamation of lust and admiration and a _longing,_ a _need_ for this type of connection, or perhaps she too found life in exchanging. Whatever it was, her joy was beautiful. 

"I cannot. After all, you have a meeting with someone else important, and I see him enter. Await my owl, Mr Snape."

He wondered if she would ever call him Severus. 

Echo was aptly named. Again, it was evidently false, but in a circle so infused with secrets, that hardly hurt. Severus would have enjoyed manipulating his way throughout this society under a pretence of imagined faces and names, but he doubted it would work. His level of talent would not go unrecognised, and people would immediately make the connection.

He was a wiry man with dark hair and eyes that looked sleepless. He did not wear robes, but a pinstripe suit. It was uncomfortably reminiscent of Severus' father. 

"I represent a large number of werewolves within the country," he said. His voice was very quiet but very strained. "If you would like to do business, I'm the person to talk to."

Severus didn't doubt it. To be chosen by Miss Chantelle, an extensive net of contacts were required.

"Of course, there needs to be some benefits for myself and them. And I need to understand that it won't be harmful or dangerous."

"Of course," Severus agreed smoothly. "I believe the benefits for yourself and werewolves across the country will be evident once you hear of my goals. If you will allow me..." 

That night, he mused over his notes with a rarely indulgent glass of Firewhisky in his hand, wondering when he could expect Idina's owl. 

It was not like him to be enamoured so quickly. 

But then, he thought, was that really true? Severus had never been anything but painfully self-aware. It was what made him bitter.

He had loved Lily from the moment he had seen her, flying, all flaming hair and shining eyes, from the swings. And _him,_ too-

But those two had been similar. Wide smiles, bright eyes, oriented around a family that were bad for them. And both loved by a Marauder, though in different ways, and thus forbidden and doomed to end in misery. Both fervent about a side on the war without really understanding what war entailed. 

He threw the remainder of his glass in the fire before he could begin to contemplate on any of that. He was not ready to look at his last lover in the face, not yet.

Her owl was grey and very haughty, the letter in black with golden ink, and the script ostentatious yet elegant. It was what he expected. 

_The parents would like to meet you, and for you to meet their daughter. I am at Grayroad Manor with my own young girl. Would you join us?_

_Idina Brass_

Severus paused.

He went upstairs and changed his robes. His current ones smelt like potions. Remembering Hannah's advice, he pulled back his hair. He was meeting clients, after all. He should make a good impression. 

He stepped into the Floo before he could talk himself out of it and emerged into Grayroad Manor. It was a comfortable and spacious room decorated in very neutral colours. Idina was perched on a beige armchair looking, in her flamboyant feathered robes, like a very beautiful bird of prey. With her was a woman with rough brown hair and another, blonde woman with very intelligent eyes. Severus thought that she was likely to be Idina's contact.

On the floor were two toddlers, presumably the same age as young Harry - _hardly relevant,_ he chided himself - both girls. One had masses of straw-coloured hair and a bandaged thigh. He presumed that was the bitten child. The other one was Idina's, then. He would not have expected her to be a mother, much less to this. The child looked very aware for a baby and very solemn - neither of which were surprising - but she looked nothing like her mother. Her hair was dark, her nose pert, and her eyes blue. 

"She takes after her father," said Idina, perhaps noting Severus' thoughts. "He was an attractive man, of course, so I can hardly complain of that. As long as she is not like him in character."

"I'm sure our guest doesn't want to hear you be maudlin about your marriage, Idina," said the blonde woman, coming forward to vigorously shake Severus' hand. Hers were very weathered. "I'm Caroline Grayroad, this is Roberta - my wife - and this is our little Lorna." She lifted the blonde baby very carefully, so as to not disturb her injured leg. 

"You wouldn't know how different she's been since the bite - all stiff and solemn," said Roberta, very suddenly. Her voice was musical and carried an accent. He thought Irish. "She used to laugh all day long." 

Severus inclined his head. "A traumatising experience for anyone, not least a child. Have you contacted the Aurors?"

Caroline flung a contemptuous look at Roberta. Severus did not allow himself to wince. A point of contention, then. 

"Absolutely not," she said, in a tone that suggested she did not think much of Aurors. "Not for Roberta's lack of trying, though. What would you like? Food? Drink? I want to hear of what you think you might be able to do."

"I have been making notes. I would be happy to run through them with you, but I am afraid they may change before I come to a finished product."

"As one would expect," said Caroline briskly. "So what is it? Tea? Coffee?"

"Stop looking so panicked, Severus," said Idina amusedly. "This is a social gathering. You may eat." 

He sent her a look not unlike the one Caroline had given her wife, and accepted some tea. Thankfully, both Roberta and Caroline were mostly interested in his notes after that, although Idina seemed to enjoy interjecting personal questions to see Severus' composure falter. He would have responded vehemently to the teasing if he did not get the feeling that it was a method of establishing intimacy rather than a true taunt, not unlike Hannah's habit of putting jars in the wrong order. 

The evening extended into a night without much issue; Roberta, as he had suspected, was not as intelligent as her wife, and needed more help understanding. She was clearly determined to try, however, and Severus could not begrudge him that. She held her daughter like she was holding a very fragile world. 

_The world is fragile,_ he mused, as he stepped into the fire of his own home. 

James Potter was in his living room surrounded by six other Aurors, all brandishing their wands. In the midst of them stood Albus Dumbledore.


	7. Questions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus deals with the intrusion and the consequences that come with it.

He stopped at once, so that he was only a step from the Floo if he had to fall back to Grayroad Manor, and surveyed the scene. 

He could of course leave at once, but he didn't want to do that. It would be embarrassing in front of clients, and Idina. 

It should not have hurt as much as it did to see Dumbledore. He breathed in, and then drew on all the years of sitting at the Dark Lord's table. He drew on the moment he heard of his love's death and had to process it with a straight face. He drew on the times he didn't know whether he would have to perform the Cruciatus Curse or have it performed on him whilst not knowing which one was worse, and still had to keep his voice steady.

It was only in that moment when he truly understood Clarissa, and how much of a performance his apathy really was.

_That hardly matters,_ he thought to himself, _if you are dead._

"I must confess," he said, and his voice was sarcastic and smooth as he had wanted it, "I am displeased to understand how little you actually care, Albus."

"It is not that, my boy," said Dumbledore, looking so earnest that Severus longed to hex him. "I am here simply to ensure that this confrontation does not get out of hand. The Aurors have been tracking your movements-"

_Of course._

"-and tonight, James came to alert me of your behaviour. Oh, Severus. You must abandon your Dark instincts if you are not to destroy yourself."

"Dark instincts?" Severus asked silkily. "May I enquire as to what these are? And under what charges you have broken into my house?"

"It's not your house, the Ministry provided it for you," said Potter breathlessly. His eyes were glittering with hazel hate. "And I _know,_ Snape - you went to meet with someone-"

"Which is not a crime. You have no idea what we met about."

Of that, Severus was certain. There was absolutely no possibility that someone of Potter's calibre of idiocy would have been able to eavesdrop at Miss Chantelle's. In fact, he would have been turned away at the door. Black might have been let in, of course - Severus was in fact surprised that the mutt wasn't currently in his house with his best friend - but he had always been disinterested in reaping the benefits of his family name, even when they suited him. 

"What was it, then?" said a female Auror, wand wavering a little uncertainly. Severus sneered. 

"If it's nothing incriminating, you won't mind sharing," said the woman next to her, her voice much harder.

"A couple with a young child contacted me because their toddler was recently bitten by a werewolf," he explained shortly. Dumbledore made a soft noise of sorrow. "They are hopeful that I will be able to do something to lessen the pains of the condition."

"And if we were to go to the records, we would find a case like that recently filed?" asked Potter, eyes alight.

"I do not think so. They are understandably operating with the utmost level of secrecy, hence my surety that you were in my house with absolutely no actual understanding." Severus' lip curled. Some of the Aurors were having the decency to look embarrassed, wands drooping sadly but still not lowered.

"I trust your curiosity is satisfied, James," said Dumbledore, who was daring to look _amused._ "Shall we all leave?"

The Aurors disappeared in a series of pathetic pops, Potter last with a look of mingled fury and embarrassment. Dumbledore lingered. 

"Can I help you?" asked Severus, voice hard. 

Dumbledore sighed, still determined to preserve the belief that it was the other way around, and Disapparated himself.

_"I wasn't expecting to see you here."_

_"I can assure you that I feel the same."_

_He looked disappointed._ "Really?"

_Perhaps he had it in his head that he had always had the aura of a future Death Eater. He was the furthest thing, of course. Too thin, not in a deprived way like Severus, but just slender and pretty like his bones would be easy to break. Lots of thick ruffled hair and wide bright eyes, and, of course, very little understanding of what it _meant_ to be a Death Eater. He was as naïve as a child and, Severus thought irritably, practically was one._

_"You used to be friends with that Mudblood at school," the idiot persisted, not flinching away from Severus' glare. It wasn't out of bravery; he simply wasn't capable of recognising a threat when he saw one. Severus thought that the Sorting Hat would do well to differentiate between the two when selecting students for Gryffindor._

_"I'm sure you remember how that ended."_

_"I'm sorry," he said, and it sounded sincere. The poor fool was going to get eaten alive._

_"It isn't your responsibility," said Severus shortly._

_The boy nodded, clearly desperate for a new avenue in the conversation. Severus could see Nott smirking at Malfoy out of the corner of his eye, and dismissed it. Their contempt would always sting after he had lived through so many years of being treated similarly, but they would leave him alone. He had already participated in one round of torture, and made some of his particular skills apparent on a Muggle._

_If they would not be kind, they would be afraid._

_But this boy was not afraid. This bright-eyed boy should have seen Severus' patched robes, his greasy hair, his Muggle last name. He should have understood all that marked him out as a target, just like the red-haired girl from Surrey should have recognised him as one from his dirty house and poor clothes and the fact that it was _his_ house where the rows ended with bumps and screams instead of just silence._

_But he wasn't scared. He was of Lily's soul, of a purity that you could not corrupt._

_Severus should have known from that point onwards that it was doomed. People like that were incompatible with Severus Snape. It had been proved once._

Clarissa nodded seriously at Severus' recount of the tale. "And how did it make you feel?" she asked. He ground his teeth. It was, of course, his least favourite question.

He pulled at the band on his wrist, aware that she was going to make a note of it, but too irritated to care. "Betrayed. It is silly. I am aware that I did not appreciate Dumbledore's interference. But at least it implied that he cared for me."

"Surely going there was his way of caring for you?" Clarissa asked, eyebrows arched. "Do you think you would have been believed had it just been James Potter and a team of Aurors?"

"Of course not. But even if he preserved my life - or my status as a free man - there are other things that a person who is supposed to care for you should preserve."

"Like what?"

He glared. She didn't flinch but met his eyes until he assented, growling out, "my feeling of safety."

"Your feeling of safety," she repeated. "Can you elaborate on that?"

"Even if he physically kept me safe, I cannot possibly feel safe knowing that my privacy can be violated at any time. Any attempt to put up wards would be distrusted by the Ministry, especially as any wards using purely light magic are either unfit for purpose or simply weak. I dislike that he broke into my home." Severus breathed out, face slightly red at his outburst. 

"You are making tremendous progress," said Clarissa softly. "Beginning to acknowledge your feelings and using them to understand what is and isn't acceptable in your relationships is a wonderful first step, Severus, and it can be difficult to make."

He flinched away from the praise. She didn't comment, perhaps knowing that he was at his limit.

"Well," she said expectantly, "is there anything you can do about it?"

_Miss Idina Brass,_

_During our time at Grayroad Manor, Roberta mentioned that you have an exceptional gift with wards. After the events of the evening, I returned home to a situation for which your expertise may be helpful._

_If you have no reason to object, I would like your assistance._

_Severus Snape_

He allowed himself to linger, for a moment, on the freeing beauty in falling in love with someone so similar to himself. Never before had he contemplated a relationship of equals.


	8. Promises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus is finally forced to confront his second love by Idina.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter includes flashbacks to Severus' time as a Death Eater. TW: panic attacks, rape/sexual assault, murder, torture. If any of those are triggering for you please don't read the scenes from the past!
> 
> EDIT: Ao3 doesn't seem to like posting this with italics. I'm not sure if this is just my laptop, but if you get confused it's probably because it's a flashback. I'll mark them with FLASHBACK at the beginning (creative, I know) until I can sort it out.
> 
> EDIT: I think I sorted it out!

Idina Brass' house was an imposing redbrick manor. The doors were black and engraved with intricate lines. Inside, it was very like her; the lighting was dim and sultry, everything seemed to be made of either cherry wood or gold, and he could feel secrets and magic prowling about the house like shadows. Idina herself was dressed in an explosion of scarlet silk. He thought that they were probably robes, but they had been so adorned with jewels and feathers and tassels that he could no longer tell. She laughed with darkly painted lips when his lip curled, as if guessing his thoughts. 

They moved into a room more brightly lit than the corridors, where her daughter was sat under the watchful eye of a house elf. The house elf - "Minnie", Idina said - bowed when they entered. She was dressed in a black silk pillowcase. The toddler - who he remembered was named Megaera - was scrutinising a card with a hippogriff on it. She slotted it into a larger card that read _ACROMANTULA_, pouting when the cards both dissolved into a foul-smelling smoke. When they returned to their natural state, she scowled at them both and threw them away.

"She doesn't like being wrong," said Idina fondly, watching as Minnie spelled 'hippogriff' for her.

"She is very intelligent," Severus remarked, watching as Megaera matched _NUNDU_ to the correct picture and the set of cards sparked happy fireworks. It was an interesting comparison to Lily's baby, who had barely been coherent. Clearly, Idina was stimulating her child's intellect from a young age, something Severus envied. He had grown up without Wizarding toys: his father detested magic because it had the potential to even out the power dynamic in his relationship with Severus' mother. He had often spent his childhood contemplating how different things would have been if his mother had her wand. __

_ __ _

"I plan to ensure she fulfils her potential," said Idina, casting a smile towards her daughter. "Have you considered teaching? I'm sure many would pay richly to have Severus Snape lend his expertise to their children." 

_ __ _

"I doubt I would be the kindest of teachers," Severus admitted. He did not see his sour personality as compatible with the job: both at his primary school and at Hogwarts, the teachers had been ineffective and apathetic, but they had been _nice._ That wasn't a word he'd use to describe himself. 

_ __ _

Idina laughed. "She is only a babe yet, but I don't imagine her as the kindest of little girls. But, tell me - what happened that you so hurriedly called upon my services? You were not in danger, I hope." 

_ __ _

"I could have been," said Severus. "As it was, it was merely worrying. A team of Aurors - led by James Potter - had intruded into my house, alongside Dumbledore. He was there to prevent the situation from escalating," he said, as she opened her mouth to exclaim. "Potter also mentioned that, rather than being _my_ house, it was Ministry property. I hardly look to him for a thorough understanding of the legal technicalities, but you can still imagine my anxiety." 

_ __ _

"Quite," Idina murmured, and she sipped her wine. Her eyes had become very soft; much like Severus' voice, he thought, which always became silkier when his words were calculating. She put the wine glass down. "And you would like my help with wards?" 

_ __ _

"I know of wards able to deter the Aurors, and some that might be able to keep out Dumbledore," he said, voice twisting. "But certainly none that are not Dark magic, and the Ministry is not fond of Dark magic. In my case, I feel that its use would be unwise." 

_ __ _

"Of course," Idina mused, and her smile grew wider. "I believe I have just the thing to help you, Severus Snape. It is the ward I have used on my own home, so you can trust that I hold the spell in high regard." 

_ __ _

A gesture of extraordinary trust, thought Severus. To understand the wards intricately enough to have them around his own home, he would have to know them well. If he wanted to break into _her_ house, it would be considerably easier, and he did not think that Idina took security measures unseriously. Looking back at her again, he saw a hint of uncertainty to her smile. 

_ __ _

This is an offer of friendship, not just a favour to an ally. 

_ __ _

"Thank you," he said, a little roughly, hoping that she would understand that he was thanking her for the trust as well as the help. "How do the wards function?" 

_ __ _

Idina smiled, obviously proud. "It is a modification of the Fidelius Charm. Rather than the protection being reliant on your object of affection's love, it is based upon your own. Your love for those you wish to protect protects you." Her eyes travelled again to her daughter. "When my darling was born, I wanted to be absolutely sure that I could protect her. The only thing I could think of that could not be confused was my love for her." 

_ __ _

"It is admirable," said Severus. "But your ward cannot help me. I have no such object of affection." 

_ __ _

She went very still for a moment, looking, with a lamp bright behind her in her polished hair, like a regal painting. "It is a sadness that can come with the human condition," she said at last. He heard in her words a shred of understanding, and that was all that stopped him from leaving at once. 

_ __ _

Idina was like him; he was sure of it. 

_ __ _

And now she had a baby. No wonder she was so overprotective, so determined for the child to succeed. Severus knew how desperately you loved when you only had one person that would accept it; he had lived through it twice. 

_ __ _

"Has there been no-one? Living or dead?" 

_ __ _

Severus winced. "Dead. I do not talk of it." 

_ __ _

"You do not have to," said Idina, "but I would advise it. The charm will not work as well if you cannot confront your own love." 

_ __ _

He seethed inwardly at her phrasing, but he felt the last of his resistance slipping from his fingers like soap or ice. Clarissa had been pushing him to talk about him for the last two or three sessions, and he could feel his mind clinging to Idina. He would have rejected the love violently if he didn't know what type of woman Idina was. She was as far from his past loves as a person could be. 

_ __ _

"His name was Regulus Black," he said at last. 

__

"What was he like?" 

__

__

_He was vomiting and hyperventilating at the same time, which was hardly a good combination. Severus flicked his wand and Regulus retched, it all tumbling out of his mouth and stomach at once. It wasn't a nice experience, but at least he wouldn't choke._

__

_"Soft spot, Snape?" drawled Malfoy, who of course had found the whole escapade rather funny. Bellatrix was giggling madly. Nott was looking amused in his own chair, and Crabbe and Goyle were both chuckling: he supposed this was the kind of humour they could understand. Narcissa, of course, looked blank._

__

_Severus ignored Malfoy and pulled out a Calming Draught, handing it to Regulus without an expression. Regulus threw it to the ground and the vial shattered; he stumbled away, mumbling incoherently. Bellatrix screamed with laughter. Severus watched with distaste, but a thorny flower of sympathy was beginning to entwine him, threatening to choke. He had not felt anything like this since joining the Death Eaters, not in this arena where everyone was either as apathetic as him or worse, crueller. He vanished the potion from the ground._

__

_"What does that one do?" asked Alecto Carrow, her weak eyes fixed on the spot where it had been. She was brutish and sadistic, revelling in the havoc he could cause, and had apparently been fairly good at Potions. Not to mention that the Carrows didn't have quite enough stature for her to be as snobbish as Malfoy or Nott._

__

_"That was a Calming Draught," he responded calmly. "He'd do well to actually take it, but I'm not sure he'll accept any potions from me."_

__

_"You can hardly blame him," said Alecto eagerly. "We used your new one tonight. Bones everywhere."_

__

_"Ah. A raid, then?"_

__

_"Lucius and me. Macnair. And Bellatrix." Alecto grinned a little wickedly. "I don't think the poor lad has quite the disposition for it."_

__

_The Dark Lord clearly didn't either, if he had sent the boy on a raid with the most sadistic of his Death Eaters. Either he'd wise up quickly or go raving mad._

__

_Severus remembered the bright-eyed boy he'd met on the day he got his Mark, and thought it likely to be the latter._

__

__

"Stupid," he said, at last. 

__

Idina laughed throatily. "Hardly words of love." 

__

Severus gestured uselessly. "These were my early Death Eater days. I was surrounded by cruelty and heartlessness. Everybody was calculated, sadistic, and that helped deaden my own soul to become even more the same. But Regulus had been marked on the merits of his family - his cousins, of course, held in high esteem - and he had no idea what he had been chosen to become. And he most certainly did not have the disposition for it. He hated the torture. He hated the people. He hated me, from the beginning, and I think he would not have loved me if he had been somewhere where more people showed him kindness. I was the only one who ever gave him pity." 

__

"Not even his family sympathised with him?" 

__

"Narcissa never taunted him. And she gave him the potions he would not accept from me. But apart from that, Regulus was alone, and often taunted by the rest." 

__

__

_The girl must have been fourteen or fifteen years old. Severus fought his rising nausea as she struggled away from Amycus, crying hiccoughing tears that might have been for the death of her parents or her own situation. He had stripped her with magic, laughing drunkenly as the other Death Eaters lounged around. Nott was setting fire to one of the hedges, Malfoy watching the scene out of the corner of his eye. Regulus was shaking._

__

_"He can't- he won't-"_

__

_Bellatrix's head jerked up, eyes sparking with glee. "What's that, Reggie?"_

__

_He swallowed. He looked like his knees were going to buckle, but he licked his lips and found his voice. "Stop. This isn't - this isn't _necessary-"__

__

_Bellatrix howled with laughter. Malfoy looked amused as well, but his face soon flickered in disappointment when Amycus dropped the girl to stare at Regulus. She scrambled away from him and held her arms around herself, looking up at Regulus with desperate eyes. _

__

_"Help me - please, please, please-"_

__

_"Shut it," said Nott lazily, and he directed the flame to her feet. She squealed and jumped, the rest of the Death Eaters screeching with laughter as he began a humiliating game of chase with the fire._

__

"Stop it!" _said Regulus, and Bellatrix laughed and conjured her own fire too. It lunged towards his feet like a live thing: he hastily dispelled it, and then Malfoy disarmed his wand. Now forced into the same, powerless position as the Muggle girl, the game of fiery tag began. Carrow lifted his wand, roaring with laughter._

__

_"Who wants to see me take off Reggie's pants?" _

_ __ _

_Severus flinched as if he had been struck. He could blind his heart to the suffering of others, but he always had cared about himself, and he would not delude himself. That was what pushed him to act._

_ __ _

_"Enough." He flicked his wand and Regulus' returned to his own hand. Carrow's was flung into the bushes somewhere; the fires dimmed out._

_ __ _

_Malfoy turned towards him, a spiteful glint in his eyes, but Severus was not afraid of that. He reminded himself that he was not what Regulus was anymore. He had earned respect, bitter respect but respect nonetheless, from all of these people. He was no longer the target._

_ __ _

_"We were sent here _for_ something, if you have all forgotten," he said flatly. "Leave the girl here, at least until our task is completed." He forced his face into the correct contempt; it wasn't difficult in his current headspace. "Black can babysit here if that is what he wants."_

_ __ _

_He swept past with barely a glance at Regulus, but what he could see looked absurdly grateful. Maybe he had _some_ Slytherin in him after all._

_ _ __ _ _

_ _ __ _ _

"You don't strike me as a bleeding heart," murmured Idina. 

_ _ __ _ _

"I once relied on the mercy of the kind," said Severus shortly. 

_ _ __ _ _

Idina met his eyes, and hers were dark fire. "Well, now you can work on the favours of the powerful." She spread her hands. "We can begin work on the charm." 

_ _ __ _ _


	9. Invitations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus grows closer to Idina, but their discussion sends him into a spiral that leads a project to its near-conclusion.

Severus had gates like Idina, now, black and made out of intricate lines. If anyone unwelcome arrived at his house, they would quickly twist to form the image of an animal.

"What animal?" he had asked. 

Idina had just held out her hands. "Whatever best represents your perception of your love."

Considering that he had thought of Regulus as the human embodiment of a clumsy puppy - a perception that had lessened over time, but not really changed - Severus doubted he would have the most frightening of wards, but he could live with that. It would do nothing to alter the strength of the magic. Now, he was with Idina, talking and laughing in his meagre living room. He was suddenly aware that it was all blank and unfurnished, and cramped and small, and he had no food or drink to offer as expensive as the wine she had given _him,_ but she had waved away all his awkward apologies with her long, spidery hands. She had begun talking about how she had developed the charm, which then became a discussion about a remarkable witch that she had once met in Crete, and soon they were exchanging stories and opinions and discoveries. Idina was an astonishingly gifted witch: she had made her fortune off of bespoke spells, but had retired once she had Megaera. Now she only did work for the most interesting and important of Miss Chantelle's clients.

"Like you," she said, and she gave him a smile that was equal parts predatory and admiring. He matched her energy as he grinned back, but he couldn't stop it slipping into a softer, wider smile. Gone was the pressure of a love that felt like parenting even while it was a romance. She knew what he did, had seen what he did, loved as he did: ruthlessly, darkly - but genuinely. It was exhilarating, but the feeling was interrupted by Idina clearing her throat. "Have you considered what your next steps with that will be?"

Severus sipped his wine. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I know I'm dreadfully charming-" 

Severus rolled his eyes. Apparently, Firewhisky made Idina more complacent than she generally was. 

"-but I'm by no means the only person at Miss Chantelle's who would have liked to speak with you. I was just the bravest." She fluttered her eyelashes again.

"Stop that at once. It is ludicrous."

"What is?" she exclaimed, in mock offence, but her eyes were laughing.

"When you act innocent and girlish. I've never seen such a poor parody of stupidity."

Her smile widened around her glass. "Do you think it makes me less attractive?"

"You're more attractive when you're yourself, yes."

"My _brave_ self?" Idina made a performance of thinking. "You know, Severus, I think if I was schooled in England, I'd have been a Gryffindor. The house of the lions, yes?" 

"The first girl I loved was in Gryffindor." 

He regretted the words as soon as he said them, busying himself with filling his glass and hoping furiously that she had not notice him flush. Of course, she had. When he looked up again, her smile was even wider.

"Is that so?" 

Severus scoffed, cheeks still burning. "Yes, and it was ridiculous. This is ridiculous. We are not children."

"Well," said Idina, eyes soft again, "as you're so desperate to run away from _that_ conversation, I think that your adult business has arrived."

At the window was a very glamourous owl, carrying a letter with a golden seal. Severus smarted at her phrasing but chose to ignore it, scanning the letter for curses or dangerous substances with a flick of his wand. He'd received endless threatening post since his release, but thankfully the new wards would take care of that. This particular letter was clean, so he opened it. The parchment was pale pink.

_Dear Severus,_

_I wonder if anybody has approached you on the subject of teaching? Many people have murmured to me of it. I hope you will not hold it against me that I did not immediately speak to you; of course, I hear plenty of murmurings._

A subtle offer, there, to his pick of her information. Or at least, his pick of the information that he suspected the writer knew. If he was correct in his current assumptions, he could not possibly hope to know of everything that she heard. 

_If nobody has broached the subject with you, I shall. I have a boy of nearly two years, my little Blaise. I think that I might send him to Hogwarts,_

A secret to know in itself.

_but I should like him to be advanced by the time he arrives there. That way, he can spend his time cultivating relationships and connections instead of scraping away hours struggling for acceptable marks. I should be most indebted if you should teach him Potions._

_There are other parents of similar age groups who would be delighted for this opportunity too. Naturally, I shall be selective in the ones I allow into the classes if you will agree to teach them. I will be happy to coach the children in Charms, my own specialty, and all the parents involved in the group will be expected to contribute. If being such a formative figure to children do not entice you, you will be part of a gathering of extraordinary intellectuals. I imagine such an intelligent man as Severus Snape must despair his companions, sometimes._

_Do contemplate, and write back when you have your answer. I shall be intrigued._

_Chantelle Zabini_

Severus put down the letter with as much irritation as he could muster. "I suppose you are part of this mad scheme of Miss Chantelle's to have me teach?"

Idina smirked. "You surely can't begrudge me wanting for my daughter to have the most accomplished of tutors, and for myself to have the most interesting of friends."

He shook his head and changed the subject. They spent the evening reading to Megaera, stories that were apparently Muggle fairytales, but that Severus had never heard. His mother had hauled him to cheap theatres that played old Disney films (once the glossier cinemas that Lily went to were done with them), but he had grown out of them before even most children. It was painfully apparent that he was never going to be Cinderella. But these stories were gruesome, and painful, and dark, and in many places unforgiving. Idina said that they were traditional. "From the era of witch-burnings," she explained. 

"I'm intrigued as to what your daughter will become," Severus confessed. He was not worried, however. Idina was by no means a conventional parent and she certainly didn't coddle. But he saw how gently she held Megaera, and the way she had kissed her tears and spoken sweet words to her softly when she hit her knee on a chair. She loved her daughter. 

The two of them left late at night, Megaera already asleep curled up on a Transfigured little rocking bed, and Severus found himself contemplating his own childhood. Everything was either screamed or muttered, and there was a lot of shattered glass and blows were thrown about. That much he could cope with and had already communicated; to Clarissa, to Regulus, and Lily of course as good as knew what went on. But he had never nursed the wounds of neglect when there were things he could define more properly as abuse. He had never confronted that he had a whole another personality locked away by how he was treated, or that there was potential just out of his reach like a myth Idina had read about a man called Tantalus. That was a Greek one, she had said, and almost as old as witchcraft. 

He spelled the alcohol out of his system and went to his lab to work. He already had plenty of notes on lycanthropy, which was the only way that this was at all possible before Christmas. After the incident at school, he had suffered from something of a phobia of werewolves, which he had ineffectively treated with Dreamless Sleep and endless research. It would have perhaps been more apt to visit the Hospital Wing, even if he doubted that much would have been done, but he had been glad of all that he knew once Fenrir Greyback allied with the Death Eaters. 

But now, of course, he did not plan on killing the werewolf but taming it. As he thought of Lupin - and even the little toddler with her scratched arm - he didn't think of helping the person as much as he thought of baning the beast. He remembered the Aurors, focused on Hector Bones instead of Theodore Nott, and how Hannah smiled whenever she sneaked someone a headache potion that was technically supposed to go straight to storage. He wondered if his father had stolen that side of him as well. 

He wanted to drink more, but that would compromise the integrity of his research. And he was desperate to avoid falling into that particular pitfall of his mother's. 

So he worked, and clamped his thoughts beneath more thoughts of work instead of love. He thought about teaching, but that made him think of parenting, and how committed the ones Miss Chantelle had gathered were to their children's education, and the way that Idina had held Megaera when she cried, so he thought of the potion. For hours he thought, as sharply and briskly as he cut ingredients, with no room for contemplations about anything else. He worked until he had a smoking goblet. 

_"Wolfsbane,"_ he said softly. If there was a time for theatrics, it was this. 

He would write to Echo to meet with some willing werewolves in the morning. He wasn't sure of side-effects and a toddler was hardly the best of test subjects. Nobody was, really, but plenty of those living with lycanthropy would kill to even be involved with a potion like this, he was sure: it could change their lives. Echo would be thrilled.

Still, from their meeting, Severus thought that he was no fool. And he was a client - an important one - specifically chosen by Miss Chantelle. Severus was far too exhausted to be confident in the nature of the letter he wrote at this time of night. Moreover, he was expected at the Ministry at eight, and doubtlessly there would be questions about his new wards if they were still watching his house. 

It was time for rest, even if he needed Dreamless Sleep to do it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know Severus didn't technically invent Wolfsbane in canon, but I always thought it was a nice little theory. He obviously has good reason to want to improve the safety of the condition, and what with him being a Potions genius and Remus mentioning how fortunate he was to know someone capable of brewing it … I just like the idea. It's also a great plot point.


	10. Messages

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus takes some new steps in his career, and hears of a potential disruption.

Severus did not dislike Mondays because they meant the beginning of the working week; work was all he had. However, before he was allowed to retreat into his lab on Monday mornings, he was forced to speak with Clarissa, and so he somewhat shared the general dread. He left the appointment feeling rattled: while undeniably helpful, the meetings were uncomfortable and he always left them feeling exposed. Thankfully, she had been too distracted by his new friendship with Idina today to push more about Regulus. 

He arrived to the pungent aroma of boiling Butober pus. Hannah waved cheerily and began a stream of welcoming chatter, which lasted for so long that by the end of it, the contents of her cauldron had become stringy and watery and evidently over-boiled. Hannah didn't seem to notice anything as she mixed in the lace-flies. Severus scowled, hoping for the patient's sake that they didn't have particularly painful eczema. 

Swallowing the urge to comment on it, he sat down at his work bench and pulled out some parchment to begin writing his letter to Echo, thinking that a suitable distraction. Besides, there was little he could do before he had an answer.

Hannah chuckled. "Making notes again?" She had spent a lot of time the past few weeks gaping in confusion as he organised and wrote the notes for his Wolfsbane. He might have worried that she might spread the findings, but she was trustworthy even if she talked too much, and didn't understand a lot of it anyway. 

"Yes," he said, not bothering to explain. It took a while for him to compose a suitable letter what with her nattering the entire time, but once he was satisfied he carefully folded it into his bag. If he sent it by owl now, she'd doubtlessly persist with questions. 

"How was your weekend?" she asked, after a story about her cousin had come to a predictable and vaguely amusing end. "Get up to anything much?"

It occurred to him that he might tell her about Idina; almost immediately, he brushed it away. Idina felt like a gift that would immediately burst into flames if unwrapped.

"It was good," he said, in a clipped voice. "How did that cake recipe you found last Thursday taste?"

As Hannah launched into a passionate description of her beetroot-and-chocolate cake, he rejoiced in his privacy, nursing his secret like it was the prettiest treasure in a dragon's hoard. 

He went out for lunch. Hannah had voiced her surprise - he usually spent it in the lab - but also her support. 

"You'll get sick, lurking in the shadows all the time," she said. "Me and the girls are going up to Diagon Alley, do you want to tag along?"

"I wouldn't want to intrude," said Severus smoothly, stepping out of the door as a way of cutting off the conversation. He didn't know if Hannah's good nature would extend to telling him he wouldn't when that would obviously be the case, and he didn't want to. The Ministry building was busier as many people vacated their offices, and he received more glowers than usual. He dodged past a glaring witch whispering to an anxious-looking man in a bowler hat, both of who had raised their wands but, other than that, bustled past the crowds without any genuine conflict. As soon as he left the building he put on a Disillusionment Charm; he could assume a certain level of safety within the Ministry (if only barely), but he didn't extend that trust to general members of the public. 

It dropped as soon as he stepped into Miss Chantelle's, of course. She didn't seem surprised that he had disguised himself, waving to him from behind her desk. The toddler - Blake? _Blaise_ \- was there too, gnawing on the edge of his golden blanket. Severus wasn't sure what that would do to his teeth.

"Severus," she said, gifting him a smile that had led stupider men to their graves. "Have you come to discuss my letter?"

"That and other things," he said. Her expression did not change. "May I borrow an owl? I need to send a message."

She clicked her tongue. "I'll show you to the owlery." She murmured a charm so that Blaise bobbed along in his chair (he made a surprised noise, then busied himself with the blanket again) and led him into a separate room. It was the nicest owlery he had ever been in: their cages had been spelled so their hoots sounded like pretty, harmonious song; all the cages were ornate and gilded; it smelt like an enchanting combination of honey and lavender; the walls were - predictably - pink; and the floor was charmed so that droppings and animal bones vanished as soon as they landed. 

"You can use Orion," said Chantelle, gesturing towards a dignified black owl with greying feathers. "Most owls are too old to fly at his age, but he wouldn't dream of retiring. He's very self-important."

Severus got the uncomfortable sense that Orion was not an ordinary owl, but he didn't have time to dwell on it. He tied the letter to the owl's leg and then turned back to Miss Chantelle, who was waiting expectantly.

"Perhaps my _private_ parlour?" she said, voice careless, but her smile betrayed her. She knew the importance of what he was offering. Severus could not stop a vindicated grin slipping across his face: his childhood self would have severed a limb for this. Teenage Severus would have thought joining the Death Eaters for a few years a small price to pay. 

_If there was a way to do so without costing Lily's friendship, of course,_ his brain reminded him, helpfully as always.

Of course, back then, that friendship had meant everything. He felt his face twisting into a sour expression, and shook his head irritably. Contemplating such things in Miss Chantelle's presence were dangerous. 

"What would you like to talk about other than my offer?" she asked once they had sat, pouring him a glass of something fuchsia and fizzy.

"My project with Echo is going smoothly," he said, "and I would like to consider how far I could take it."

Chantelle gave him another, dazzling smile. "And what avenues are you planning to take it in?"

"Financial ones," Severus responded, taking a cautious sip of the drink. He had checked it with a spell first, of course; he knew she would not take offence. It tasted fruity.

She arched an eyebrow. "I expected something more nuanced."

Severus bit his tongue before he could snap that the thought that money wasn't complex was a viewpoint typical of those who had it. "I daresay you've never had a Ministry salary, but I can assure you that it is not at all satisfactory. I would like to establish myself as someone who can be hired to create potions according to a brief."

"An occupation worthy … but the Ministry? It was my understanding that you were forcibly entered into a contract with them."

"I can see no reason why the Ministry cannot have access to the potions I design," said Severus, "although I am sure something could be done if their involvement proved problematic. I'm merely offering people the chance to dictate what it is that I do with my Ministry funding."

Chantelle's eyes twinkled. "So these would be charitable donations, then? Expressions of gratitude? Investments in talent?"

Severus smirked. "They can be creative with it as long as they provide a reason. I have complete freedom with my research - and, while I would to be punished if something got into the hands of the Dark Lord, I can give whatever I want to law-abiding citizens."

Chantelle poured herself some more of the drink. The bottle was shaped like a rose. "Even if we cannot offer your services to Death Eaters for risk of your imprisonment, I still know of plenty people who would love a solution to their problems in a bottle, Severus. How do you want this organised?"

"That was where I was hoping you would come in," he said, and he felt a jolt of vindication burst inside his stomach when she looked like she'd never been asked a better favour. 

Echo had already owled back by the time he returned to the Ministry. Severus had never met someone so ruthlessly switched on. 

_Chantelle's. 10:30, Saturday._

_If not possible, please owl back at the earliest convenience._

Hannah glanced at it curiously.

"Who's it from?"

"Hate mail," he said smoothly, setting the letter alight and quickly scrawling the details onto a bit of parchment.

She frowned. "You should do something about that."

"My house is warded. Nothing dangerous will get into the Ministry."

"Words can be dangerous," she defended. 

"Well, I have something of a defence against them."

She sniffed, banging her cauldron on the fire with unnecessary vehemence. "Well, it's getting out of hand, if you ask me. An Auror came in here, spitting raging about you. I thought he was going to hex me when I said you weren't here."

Severus scowled. "Glasses and uncombed hair?"

"No. He was there, though - he dragged the other one out."

Black, then. His brow creased unpleasantly. Their interactions had been relatively few and he was glad of it. They said he was the Black that had broke the mold, but Severus didn't think so: he had the patented Black beauty, talent, and most worryingly, the madness. Regulus, if anyone, was the surprise, in that he had been relatively sane and essentially average in both power and appearance. 

_He wasn't average._

Not in soul, he thought, but that had always counted for very little. He shook his thoughts back to his love's brother.

"Did he seem to have a particular grievance?"

"Something happened while you were out," said Hannah, "but goodness knows what. His words were garbled, he was so angry."

He felt the folds in his face deepen. It wouldn't have surprised him if Black's fury was unprovoked, mainly because he could not think of any recent source of offence. Were they still tracking him? Probably: in that case, his meeting could have set him off. Black was the likeliest candidate to understand who Severus was consorting with, and he easily could have inflated it into him committing some sort of heinous crime. 

But what to do? Would he attack him? Severus felt a sick sense of schoolboy fear coming back. That in itself was met with a healthy dose of shame. He was a grown adult, not a child. And he was more powerful than Black.

That didn't help. 

His hand shook slightly, and his mouth twisted in rage. That was a tick he had always hated: it was an irritating one for Potions. Something about his silence as he lit the fire must have been different to his usual brooding, because Hannah didn't disturb him for the rest of the afternoon.


	11. Stories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A misunderstanding has difficult emotional consequences for Severus.

Severus stared down at the sleeping form of Sirius Black. 

His arm was at an odd angle, clearly broken, and his left eye had swollen, the skin raised and flushed a fierce violet. The right side of his face was more blood than it was not, shredded into scraps of skin. The chart by his bed - which no-one attempted to stop Severus from reading - detailed broken ribs, a cracked thigh, and magical exhaustion. He was unconscious at this point, but his sleep didn't seem restful; he was murmuring, muscles tensed, and his bruised jaw was clenched. 

"I do not understand," he said, at last. 

Lupin's own jaw bulged dangerously, and Potter made a furious noise. Lily closed her eyes. He noted the absence of Pettigrew; of course, he had scampered rather quickly after the trial. Severus could not help wondering where the little rat had gone. 

"What is it that you don't understand, my boy?" asked Dumbledore, his voice very grave. 

"Firstly, why _I_ have been called to his bedside instead of being allowed to return to my home after a hard day's work," Severus sneered. "I hardly think he will be impressed to see me when he wakes."

"Sirius was injured by your wards," said Dumbledore, in clipped tones. 

Severus fought to keep an expression of grim satisfaction off his face. "So you are here to ask whether or not I will be pressing charges as to him attempting to break into my home?" 

"How can _you_ play the victim when Sirius is lying there on a hospital bed?" Lily hissed.

"The victim is the victim no matter how good they are at self-defence," Severus snarled. Lupin winced a little. "And quite frankly, I'm surprised that he managed to injure himself so on my wards."

"Really?" said Lily, eyes glinting dangerously. "You're _surprised_ that your Dark wards injured someone? I'll believe many things about you, Sev, but not that you're stupid."

"They are not Dark," said Severus, ignoring Potter's snort of disbelief, "which I know, because I put considerable effort into finding wards that both I and the Ministry would deem suitable. The wards are more defensive than offensive. How on Earth did he manage to crack three of his ribs?"

"Unsurprisingly, he tried to fight the wards-" began Lupin. 

Severus closed his eyes and begged for patience.

"He tried to _fight_ my wards," he said coldly. "Instead of retreating, he tried to do _combat_ with pure defensive magic? And this is somehow _my_ fault?"

Lupin rose to his feet, glints of golden rage beginning to filter through his amber eyes. Severus could feel a raw power that he had never noticed in his schooldays; perhaps because then, the werewolf was too busy burying his head in his books to avoid having to make a moral judgement on the behaviour of his friends. He felt his lip curling in dislike. 

"It is _reprehensible_ that you programmed such emotional toil into your wards, Snape," said Lupin, breathing heavily. "You can't defend that. There's no need for that except sadism."

Severus frowned. Surely they had not studied his wards so extensively that they already knew that they had been built on his emotional connection with Regulus? But then again, wasn't that the sort of thing the Light would prize as symbolic of the power of love? He turned to look at Dumbledore, who, if so, was surely the mastermind. "How did you discover the secret of my wards so quickly?"

Lily laughed, something high and hysterical that reminded Severus of Petunia. "It's hardly a _secret_ if that's how they attack every time someone tries to _enter,_ Sev, for heaven's sake-"

Severus frowned again. "Black was subjected to an emotional attack as well as a physical one?"

_"Stop repeating information you already know!"_ Lily said shrilly. The room went very quiet. Severus' mind was racing. Could Idina have slipped another facet into his wards? He doubted it. He could imagine her secretly strengthening his wards, but not like this. Any kind of emotional manipulation or assault would inevitably require _some_ Dark magic, and Idina wouldn't be fool enough to risk Severus going to Azkaban. 

But what if that had been her plan all along?

_"Idina is good for you because she has taught you how to trust," said Clarissa. "See that you hold onto that, because reverting back to your old state - where you doubt that anybody could possibly have any good will towards you - will be easy. It is a skewed perception that tells you that your friends are your enemies."_

It was that sort of skewed perception, Severus remembered thinking, that kept people alive. But Clarissa was not entirely wrong. He trusted Idina, and thought of her as a friend. He should not suspect her before the people in front of him, who were all self-professed and active foes. What was going on? 

Was this a trick on _their_ part, then? Were they trying to make him admit to Dark magic he had not performed? An emotional attack would probably be viewed as even more reprehensible than a physical one by a courtroom, especially considering his history. He knew that Fabian Prewett was by far the most sensationalised case of his potions-making. Or were they genuinely mistaken? Had their distorted perception of him led them to an incorrect conclusion? Lily had already labelled his wards as Dark: they clearly had not thought this through.

Either way, the proper thing to do was to fully understand their position. He turned to Dumbledore - who was by far the calmest, although the least predictable, of the group - and spoke. 

"I believe we are operating on a misunderstanding," he said flatly, ignoring the way Potter's chest swelled at the words. "Could you please clarify to me your version of events?"

Dumbledore stared down at him. "You genuinely do not know what they are talking about, Severus?"

"I do not," he said, "and cannot possibly answer the accusations until I know what they are."

"Don't tell him," Potter spat out furiously. "He wants information so he can bite and wriggle his way out of it."

Severus rolled his eyes. "Either you are mistaken, or you are deliberately lying in some amateur deception-"

"_We're_ being accused of deception?"

"I have not deceived you," said Severus. "I have never deceived you."

"You are a slippery, self-interested little _snake,"_ said Lily, voice trembling with a vicious coldness. "I've _never_ lied, or withheld information from you. I don't think you can name a single person you've been entirely truthful to. Not even your old master - V-Voldemort!" 

The room rang with the name. Dumbledore looked faintly impressed, but both Lupin and Potter looked as shaken as Severus felt. 

"If you are such a beacon of truth," he said at last, voice weaker than he would have wanted, "out with it. What exactly am I being accused of now?" 

"We realised you had put wards up," said Lily, voice high and fierce, "which you didn't _need_ to-"

"I am daily accosted by Howlers and dangerous packages. Not to mention that the Auror department broke into my home on a mere suspicion." 

For the first time, Potter looked shame-faced. Severus assumed that it was the reminder of his incompetence rather than any feeling of moral failure. 

"You _didn't_ need them," Lily repeated mutinously. "Not ones like that, like you live in a fortress. We couldn't figure out what they were, we hadn't ever seen them before, not even on Death Eater hideouts."

"That, at least," said Dumbledore gently, and now his eyes were twinkling, "has been solved by Severus helpfully explaining that these are Light wards that he came across through extensive research. Fascinating, my boy. You must share them with me."

Severus hoped that he could see in his face that that would not be happening. They were Idina's secret, not his.

"So we went to your house and ran some tests, but nothing was coming up. If they _are_ Light, that's why, because we were testing for different types of Dark defences. But we knew that the wards were there. So Sirius said he'd just go in - and I wasn't sure, but James said you wouldn't be stupid enough to put up something _really_ evil when the Ministry is watching you."

"It wasn't a compliment," Potter snapped. 

Severus raised an eyebrow. 

"Everything went all white, and then the gates outside your house started melting and twisting into the Black greyhound." 

Severus paused, everything falling into place very suddenly like little Megaera's magical creature cards. He could feel the phantom fireworks bursting in his stomach, and then his mouth opened and they flooded out as laughter. Lily went very white, Potter jumped to his feet, but Lupin reached for his wand. He had it at Severus' throat in a speed that was somewhat impressive. 

"How _dare you laugh - how dare you-"_

"So enraged," said Severus softly, "on the behalf of a dog who jumped to his own injury. I must admit, when Hannah told me that a man came in furiously demanding my whereabouts, I never assumed that it was _you."_ His eyes glittered. "But then, she thought you were an Auror. And no matter how valiant, the Ministry aren't interested in hiring lycanthropes still, I assume-" 

"Enough," said Dumbledore, the words ringing with a power that you sometimes forgot was there, just as Lupin drew his wand back. Severus had no doubt that, if not for the Headmaster's interference, he would have cursed. "Lily?" 

Lily brushed her hair out of her face, seemingly unsettled, but she resumed the story. "Of course, Sirius was struck. He looked like he had been punched in the stomach. I've _never_ seen him look like that. And then the ward charged into him, and flung him back from the house. We thought he might just stay there - that was where he broke his arm - but then he roared, and he charged right back and tried to fight it, but of course it had claws and teeth and it's a lot stronger than he was, and he couldn't really hurt it. We had to pull him off." She turned to Severus with shining eyes. "It's not fair to have wards like that, ones that work like Boggarts. It's cruel. And if you have to have them, to _laugh_ about it is disgusting." 

"I was laughing because I had realised the misunderstanding," said Severus. He swallowed. "Albus. If I may speak to you alone." 

"Why?" said Potter immediately. 

"This cannot be cleared up without me telling a very personal story," Severus said, in determinedly calm tones. "And if I must tell someone, I would rather that it would not be you." 

"Tough," said Lupin, who was still shaking with anger. "It was Sirius that was injured. He deserves to know." 

"He is unconscious, and therefore understands nothing if I tell the story now. If he must know, Dumbledore can explain to him afterwards." 

"Then he'll tell us," said Lily stubbornly. 

Severus closed his eyes. It was true that there was no foreseeable future in which Black was not going to tell at least Potter, who would naturally relay the news to both the wolf and Lily. It was also true that Black - even if he had acted stupidly - would be considered within his rights to know what had attacked him. Moreover, if he refused to tell the story, they would be able to reclaim their theory that his wards operated like an advanced Boggart and bring _that_ to the Wizengamot. 

Which would require him to tell the _full_ story- because they would doubtlessly question him extensively - to a room full of people. 

He still would have preferred to tell Dumbledore alone, and have the old man spread the news. But he would no doubt find the tale inspiring and romantic, and embellish it when he told it to them, and Severus did not want him to do that. And besides, he found the thought of admitting he was not _comfortable_ telling the story in front of Potter intolerable. 

"Very well," he said, not looking at anyone in the eyes. "I assume that Black's - difficult - relationship with his family means that he fears their crest, and all that it represents, above all else." Severus did not have to try to keep his tone unsneering, there. If his father had had a crest, Severus would have detested it too. "And as such, when he was confronted with the greyhound he doubtlessly immediately recognised, you assumed that the wards had been refined to attack the fears of the intruder. This is not the case. It would have been a greyhound had Potter charged at it." 

"But why the Black greyhound?" pushed Lily. "The greyhounds on the Black crest look a specific way, we checked it, and it was like that exactly-" 

"Yes," said Severus. He swallowed again. "These wards do not operate on fear, but on love." Dumbledore looked up at once. "They took the form of the Black greyhound because I based them on the memory of Black's younger brother, Regulus." 

It made sense, of course. Severus had never met someone more devoted to family, and Regulus was somewhat dog-like, even if Severus would have called him a Labrador over a greyhound. 

_"Regulus?"_ Lupin looked thrown. "He was a Death Eater." 

Severus smiled wryly, hoping that it would distract from the brittleness of his voice. "So was I," was all he said. 

"You loved Sirius' _little brother?"_ asked Lily, and her voice had somehow gotten even higher. She looked a little faint. 

"Their resemblance did not extend to character." 

Dumbledore, of course, looked nauseatingly touched. "In the darkest of places, love can be found. Yes, I think I understand, Severus … perhaps this can even be a bonding point between the two of you." 

"I do not think Black will be any more pleased to know of this than he was when he assumed that I was utilising his fear of his family against him," said Severus shortly. In fact, he was sure that the mutt would view it as a personal offence. 

Dumbledore smiled, eyes a melting blue that - Severus started - was beginning to shine with a soft sheen of tears. "Sharing a loved one is a very difficult thing for hatred to overcome," he said. "And - my boy - I am not mistaken in thinking that Regulus Black died in the war?" 

Severus nodded, keeping his face set. 

"My condolences." And with that, as if there was no possibility of conflict now that love had been spoken, the old man swept out of the room. 


	12. Taunts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus copes with the fallout of his revelation from Remus, James and Lily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: verbal bullying, one (hypothetical) mention of masturbation.

He stood to leave after Dumbledore.

"You can't just _leave,"_ said Lupin, who still looked as if someone had shattered the sky in front of him. "There are - questions-"

Severus let himself laugh. It was as grim as he had feared. "Questions that, I assure you, you will not be receiving answers to."

Lupin opened his mouth, but words failed him. He seemed to have received the news of love between Death Eaters with the shock Severus had expected. Seeing his opening, Potter jumped in. 

"Sirius deserves to know how you were involved with Regulus. And he deserves to know what you know about what happened to him, and what he was like."

Severus bit his instinctive retort in two. Although he didn't talk about it much, (because Severus was as poor as disguising his hatred for the Marauders as they were at hiding their loathing for him) Regulus had missed Sirius. The distance that had come between him and his parents - _"because it's one thing to support killing, and another thing to do it, don't you think, Rus?"_ \- was a wound that he had nursed, the distance between he and his older brother even more so. Their parents had been cold and somewhat tyrannical, but Severus had received the impression that there had been a sense of kinship between the two brothers that had widened far before it could have been crushed by fighting on opposing sides of a war. No, it was Black's leap into the open arms of Gryffindor and the Light that had created the void, and most of the venom that came with that exchange had been directed at his mother and father. Regulus loved him still. 

And that meant that he would have wanted Sirius to know what had happened. 

He felt a sense of blinding rage at the thought of moral duty that he could not remember since his teenage years. Love and goodness were only ever characterised as peace; to him, they were nothing but a struggle. He felt a longing for the state of mind where he would have thought nothing of spitting on Regulus' grave. 

His sessions with Clarissa came hunting for the thought. _"That desire for apathy, Severus,"_ he heard in her clipped, steely tones, _"is exactly the coping mechanism we want to destroy-"_

He quashed the words with a mental fist, and winced at the sudden jolt of guilt that that sent through him. What would Clarissa think of his relapse? Dumbledore? _Idina?_

_weak weak weak weak weak weak weak weak weak weak weak weak weak weak weak weak weak weak weak weak weak weak weak weak weak weak weak weak weak weak-_

"Sev?"

The pressure in his head fell apart, like shards of glass after an explosion, and flew out of his mouth in something that sounded like anger. 

_"Don't call me that!"_

"Don't speak to her like that," said Potter, but he was now tense with a sudden wariness. Severus scowled. He had no idea what he had looked like to put Potter on his guard; he did wish that he was more aware of his own body language within anxiety. 

Lily didn't look tense at all, only mutinous. "Well, I'm sorry. I didn't realise that your old nickname was so _painful_ for you to hear."

He ignored the barb, suddenly aware of a pounding headache. "If Black is truly desperate to know of my and Regulus' relationship, then he can take that up with me at a later date," he said, in a tone that had been helpful in getting Death Eaters to stop bickering when he was heading up a mission. "And if he is stupid enough to attempt to force his way through my wards again, stop him. He can owl me."

Naturally, the tone had no affect at all on Lily.

"So that's that?" she asked sharply. "You're just leaving?"

"What reason do I have to stay?"

"What if _we_ want answers?"

"I have no obligation to give them to you."

Lily stomped towards him. Her hair was loose; he hadn't seen it that way since the trial, and that and the pure fury in her eyes reminded him of their teenage years. "Really? You have no obligation to give me answers, _Sev?"_

He didn't rise to the taunt, which she evidently had been expecting. She had changed, but so had he. Perhaps he had even changed enough to be ready for this.

"If you have questions that you genuinely feel you are owed an answer to, you can ask them. I will do my best to respond where I feel appropriate."

Potter's mouth opened as if he had an issue with those terms - which, even if this wasn't his business anyway, was fair - but Lily seemed satisfied. She gestured to a chair besides Sirius' bed, looking as if she might explode if he refused it. 

He supposed there were smaller concessions. 

"How do you fall in love with a Death Eater?"

"As I have already stated to the wolf-" Potter bristled, presumably on Lupin's behalf - "I was a Death Eater myself."

"You're a _reformed_ Death Eater," Lily corrected, as if this made all the difference in the world. Severus decided not to punch any holes in that statement. It was technically true, and he saw no use in destroying anything that allowed her to sleep at night. 

"Perhaps," he said, "but I do not think I would even refer to Black's younger brother as a Death Eater."

Lupin's head jerked. 

"But wasn't -" Lily's voice was tremulous. "Wasn't he marked?"

Severus shrugged. "Of course. But more for Bellatrix's sins than his own."

Potter's shoulders sagged. Lupin looked at Severus as if he'd suddenly been struck blind. "You have no idea - _no_ idea what that will mean to Sirius," he said, very hoarsely. "You don't know, how the thought tortured him-"

"I can imagine," said Severus. He had little interest in Black's state of mind. He was more interested in Lily's; she was looking at him, green eyes shining, in a way she hadn't for a good eight years. 

"So you weren't _really_ a Death Eater, then," she said. "You got into it, and you couldn't get out, and you and Sirius' little brother banded together-"

Severus felt his stomach twisting. It would be so easy to wear the false narrative and slither into Lily's life again under pretence. But perhaps he was no true Slytherin, because he had no patience for the kind of game that required him to reinvent himself. He had too low an opinion of his actual character to justify taking on false ones. 

"No," he said, injecting enough surety in his voice to ensure that she would not forget this moment. "I would not think of Regulus as 'really' a Death Eater. I could not possibly think of myself as anything but."

Lily's head jerked as if she had been struck. Potter's face was now a curious mixture of concern and fear. Severus allowed himself to entertain (for the very first time) that he might really love and respect Lily as much as he had once thought she deserved. 

_Still think she deserves,_ said the little voice, snidely.

"You said before that you didn't believe in what the Dark Lord said," said Lily, and now her voice had become dangerous. 

"I didn't, and I still do not. But I was not under the impression that that was what mattered to you." 

"Of _course_-" Lily breathed in furiously. "How could you love me and then him?"

Severus went very still. Potter's concern melted into contemptuous amusement as quickly as it had come. 

"We'd all like to hear about your thing for Lily, actually," he said, with a grin that was all too familiar.

"That's not what I'm asking," Lily said stubbornly. Severus supposed that that counted as an intervention. "What I want to know is how you can go from loving me to loving a Death Eater, whether you class him one or not. I want to know how you can be a Death Eater and then just come back and start doing charitable potions for ill children. I want to know what you _really are,_ Sev."

He laughed again. It was just as grim as the first one, although he couldn't have kept this one in if he had tried. 

"Sev!"

Throwing dignity to the wolves, he spoke the truth as he knew it.

"I'm a man that's good at Potions."

Her harsh green gaze did not let up. "Well, that's a pathetic way to view yourself." 

It was his turn to flinch. He tilted his head back to look at her through a curtain of hair, aware that it was greasy and limp all day from Potions, and that these weren't his good robes, and he had as good as admitted that his opinion of himself was barely higher than hers. In front of Potter, no less, who hadn't bothered to disguise his expression as anything other than Christmas coming early. For the first time in a long time, Severus Snape had no clue how to respond. 

Instead, he rose to his feet.

"Don't you dare leave," she said shakily. "Don't you _dare_ leave. After all you've done, you can take that. You can take more than that."

He met her eyes again. 

"If I am to pay for my mistakes through verbal degradation," he said softly, "I paid for them before I made them."

"You didn't make mistakes," said Lily bluntly. "You made choices."

"And so did you."

"Don't compare you two," said Potter. He had risen to his own feet, now, the full length of his body quivering with triumphant arrogance. This was territory he knew. "You're incomparable. You always were."

"I could say the same thing," said Severus, and he felt his back straighten with the truth of it. "Take this as the answer to your question, _Evans-"_ and he knew that that had hurt her as "Sev" had hurt him - "I find you more similar to Regulus Black than you ever were to James Potter, and that was not changed by Dark Marks or Dumbledore."

Potter's eyes were glittering. "I said _don't_ compare her to Death Eater scum. And that includes you."

"Don't refer to Regulus in that manner."

"I mean it, Snape." His face had stretched into a smile, but even his usual malicious joy seemed purged from it. "I can guess about all of those lonely nights that you spent _wanking_ with your skinny little arm with the Dark Lord's symbol on it-"

_"James!"_

"-fantasising about _my_ wife-"

_"James!"_

"-and you think that the feelings of your limp little dick are enough to justify talking about her like you know anything, but you _don't._ You don't deserve to love her, or call what you think your feelings are love. You don't deserve to be here. You shouldn't have a house to put wards on. You should have a cell, and I can promise that, at school, if anyone had asked what would become of greasy Snivellus that was too hard done by to make anything of his life, I'd have said that that's where you'd end up-"

_"James!"_ He stopped as if he had just heard her, regarding Severus with the same scrutiny he had when he first saw him. 

Severus could feel his right hand shaking again. He stuffed it in his pocket before he turned to look at Potter, who's face was now frozen in an amused contempt. 

"Dumbledore wants you in our lives, so I guess that's how it's going to go. But remember your place." He turned away in what Severus was clearly supposed to interpret as a dismissal. "Do you want coffee, Lils?"

"No," said Lily.

He shrugged, and then he left, with a mumbling Lupin in tow. Severus got to his feet faster than he would have liked. 

_"Sev."_

"Do not attempt to stop me leaving. I have endured more than I deserved."

"You didn't deserve _all_ of that," she said.

"Touching."

"I agree with him that you should be in Azkaban."

"So I thought."

"But some of that was - cruel." She shook her hair out of her eyes. "I'm sorry. For that. And I hope that if you _do_ become a better person, that you find another girl - or boy - that you can settle down with." Her tone was infused with so much pity that his bones themselves burned with rage. "Really."

"I have found someone," he said, the words like gilded ice. He knew that Idina was supposed to be secret, and that they technically hadn't discussed anything of the sort anyway, but he would have said anything in that moment to ease the mix of pain and humiliation in his chest.

She looked flabbergasted. _"Where?"_

"During my work to ease the pains of lycanthropy."

Understanding rippled across Lily's face, quickly replaced by worry. "She - they - they don't think you're some sort of saint, do they, Sev?"

"I do not dream of fooling someone as I apparently fooled you," he said coldly, and he let the door swing on her answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> I have recently posted a series entitled 'Of Psychopaths', which is where I'm uploading a series of short stories I'm doing for my EPQ. The protagonist of each short story has at least five psychopathic traits, and because it's part of my exam, each one comes with a survey for readers to fill out. If you have time, it would be extremely helpful to me if you could read the stories and do the surveys!


	13. Tears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus finally understands himself, which leads to an impulsive decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: breakdowns, an allusion to sex.

_"I want to know what you _really are,_ Sev."_

_He laughed again. It was just as grim as the first one, although he couldn't have kept this one in if he had tried._

_"Sev!"_

_Throwing dignity to the wolves, he spoke the truth as he knew it._

_"I'm a man that's good at Potions."_

_Her harsh green gaze did not let up. "Well, that's a pathetic way to view yourself."_

Severus swallowed down the memory. He felt it settle in his stomach again - a fluttering, uneasy feeling - ready to resurface the next time he paused to think.

But the beauty of life was that you never really had to start thinking, if only you were good enough at creating business around yourself. He wanted things in order before he spoke to Echo. Miss Chantelle had just sent him a letter. His lab was just a room away. There were plenty of things to be done; there simply was not _time_ for dwelling on unpleasant memories, no matter how much his mind wanted to do it.

_Living like that is what got you here,_ said the voice. Severus wished that he could glower at his own mind. He didn't know what purpose that voice had other than to be contrary. He thought it sprung from his suspicious nature; he dissected everything he was told, even if he told it to himself. 

But two could play at that game, he thought with vindication. _Idiot,_ he sneered at the voice. _What got me here is becoming a Death Eater. I chose a stupid route of escape, because I was young and inexperienced. But I am now dedicating myself to things that will bring me power and prestige. It's different._

The voice laughed mockingly. Severus flung his pen down, and then caught himself before he could actually spiral into a fit of rage inspired by his own thoughts.

He was going mad.

He summoned a glass of water from the kitchen. He didn't go in that room if he could help it; it was dark and cramped, and no matter what banishing spells he tried, the mold on the ceiling kept crawling back. An improved version of the already circulating potions would probably do the trick, but Severus was not taking on mundane tasks at the moment. He could easily get rich off household potions, things he could sell cheaply to a mass Wizarding audience, but that wouldn't stop people spitting at him in the street. What Severus wanted - perhaps even more than money - was to be tolerated in polite society.

_Maybe,_ said the voice, _you want to be_ liked.

Severus rolled his eyes.

_If you don't, why are you so upset about what Lily said? Why are you putting such effort into a Secret Santa gift for the wolf?_

"That will help werewolves across the country," he snarled aloud, and then immediately felt embarrassed. There were no witnesses to his literal debate with himself, but it still felt ridiculous. 

_And when have you cared about werewolves? Wouldn't the old Severus Snape have said that he didn't care about anyone at all?_

He picked up his pen again. 

_You can't ignore me. I_ am _you. What's with this "the voice" nonsense? I am your voice. Aren't we clever enough to reconcile all that I am with all that you are? Aren't we capable of existing as everything we are at once? And don't start whinging about what's happened in the past. After all, isn't there someone that likes you _back_ now?"_

"Idina," he said, through the Floo.

"Severus," she said, smiling winningly. "What a surprise. Has something important come up, or were you simply in want of company?"

"Both," he said, and it exhausted him even to say it. There was no direction in which he did not find contradictions. Perhaps Idina heard something in his voice, because she did not delay in extending her hand through the Floo and pulling him through.

As always, her house looked wonderful. He had never been inside this particular room, though: it was very glamorous, with one pinstripe wall and lots of intricate mirrors, and an enormous four-poster bed. There was a sudden jolt of self-consciousness when he realised that he was in her private bedroom. 

"Sit," she said, gesturing to a group of the enormous armchairs clustered round the fire. "I would call for something to drink, but I fear that would be a poor mix with whatever worries you have."

Severus nodded stiffly, and sat. 

"Well?" She looked at him expectantly. "Whatever is the matter?" 

Relaying the tale made his voice hoarser than it already was. Every sentence he spoke felt like a new kind of punishment, a revival of the memory. And it all seemed piled up on top of other (completely unrelated, he thought irritably) things - the brief stint in Azkaban in between his capture and his trial, Petra's terror at the sight of him, that wizard in the bowler hat that raised his wand whenever he saw him, Dumbledore, refining his Potions- 

"Severus," said Idina severely, as if he were an insolent schoolchild, "you are clearly very stressed. When was the last time you went for a massage, or a haircut? Or out to eat? Or shopping?"

"I am not privileged with the option of any of those things. I have hours to work."

"A hot bath, then. Or an evening spent simply drifting in your thoughts."

"I cannot think of anything worse."

When Idina spoke next, her voice was softer than he had ever heard it, and that soothed and enraged him at the same time. _Why is nothing ever simple in this confounded mind?_

"Why is your head such an intolerable place for you to be?"

At once, an innumerable amount of words exploded in his mouth. He could feel his cheeks bulging with the suffocating pressure to communicate the utter _contradiction_ of his head, and then suddenly, he was crying.

He was _crying._ Like a child. Severus could not remember the last time he has cried. His shame just dragged out more tears, and by the end of it, he was crying about simple worries, fears that hadn't happened and wouldn't feasibly. He was crying about things that had happened three, five, ten years ago. He cried for Regulus. He cried for Lily. He cried for his mother. And - because he had a talent in self-pity - he cried for himself. 

Idina had gone still. Severus felt a flash of humiliation that seemed even more swallowing than the despair. Calming down took more time than it should. His breaths were coming too fast.

"I apologise," he said at last, knowing that he must look a dreadful sight. "I did not mean to impose such feeling on you.

"I do," she said, studying him closely. She did not seemed repulsed, at least. "I should have noted that you had gotten to such a stage."

"It was triggered by the events of this afternoon. You could not prevent them. My weakness is not a fault of yours."

Idina scoffed. "Some of those cries had waited years, Severus. Do not think I am a novice to misery. Minnie!"

The house-elf popped into the room at once.

"Draw a bath in the guest bathroom," Idina ordered, beckoning Severus up.

"If you would like me to bathe, I can do so in my own house," he said coldly. 

She gave him a wry smile. "I do not want you to wash, Severus. I want you to _relax."_ She had drawn closer to her bookshelf, a beautiful mahogany thing that curled like it was drawn. "I keep here some light novels that do not stir one's intelligence too much. Read one and then sleep. After you have finished your bath, Minnie will show you to a guest room."

"I could not possibly stay the night."

"You could possibly," said Idina crisply. "We have not finished speaking, for one thing, but you are clearly in no state of mind to discuss anything tonight."

"I do not wish to intrude."

"I asked you. No, in fact, I told you."

"I need to work."

"Why do you need to work now? I beg of you, sleep."

Severus ground his jaw. "Are you asking me that as an ally, or as someone who genuinely cares for me?"

"Both."

He shook his head irritably. "I want to leave."

"Why?"

"I will not be lied to."

Idina's arms folded over her chest. She was wearing only a silk dressing gown, but he was fairly sure that he had her wand, and he was no fool. She was formidable. "And I will not be called a liar. Where have I misled you?"

"You do not _care for me-"_

"Do not presume to know my mind. Why is it that I do not care for you? Because I will not let you run yourself into the ground? Descend into depression? Waste everything that you could be?"

_"Because I cannot be cared for!"_

The silence that followed his statement shook the room. Idina did not say anything, just held her hand out like she had through the fire.

"Come to the bathroom," she said. "I promise you that that is not the case."

He followed her like a blind man, too numb from his own outbursts to protest, but still captured by a sense of unrelenting foreboding. A bath that would have been oversized for three people had been drawn, the room steaming with the heat of it. It was lined with taps shaped like snakes, all with different gems for eyes.

"This was designed for a Parseltongue," said Idina. "I'm told that if you ask the snakes, they tell you what their function is."

"Why do you keep it if you cannot use it as intended?"

"It's pretty, no? And I find it enjoyable to experiment." She winked. "I recommend the green-eyed one."

Severus glowered. "If you insist on me bathing, I hope you will be as courteous as to leave."

She smiled widely, and there was the hint of the predator in it that he had so missed. He felt his shoulders loosen with relief. The thought of Idina treating him like a child that had to be coddled forever was too much to bear.

"Of course. But first, I wanted to show you something."

"What is that?"

"She pushed him in front of a mirror, where he stood dead-faced, staring at his own reflection. He saw a thin, sallow man with eyes red from sobbing, with ill-fitting cheap robes and a long nose. 

"What is there to see?"

"Yourself." He didn't respond, so she tossed her head back and elaborated. "You are so much, Severus. I know you find it too much. But all the contradictions don't amount to you being nothing. They amount to you being _everything."_

"I told you I did not want to hear lies."

"And I told you that I was not a liar." Idina's voice was not crisp now, nor was it soft. It was strong, and rough, rumbling from somewhere deep in her throat. "You are Light, and Dark, a criminal, and a genius, and a Ministry employee. You are a war villain turned war hero. You are a war hero turned war villain, from the other perspective. You are a man that's good at Potions, so good that it has offered you the chance to be essentially everything else. You have had the choice to be _anything."_

The realisation turned the room into the bath, for a moment; he felt like he was under the water, struggling, and that the heat would not give way. The comprehension that he had _chosen_ to be a Death Eater hit him in the stomach.

He thought of all the excuses he had made for himself over the years. He had made them, because nobody else ever had done, not for the relatively small transgressions in his childhood-

_You're doing it again._

All of his intelligence, all of his potential, hit him like a tidal wave. He suddenly understood his crippling self-doubt. If he had accepted everything that he could have been, he would have had to comprehend how much he had failed. How lacklustre his sense of morality was in comparison to his skill. The reality of himself made him feel a little bit sick, but the feeling was somewhat giddy at the same time. There was a sense, now, of hope and renewal, that tomorrow genuinely could be better than today.

_Anything could be better than today,_ he thought ruefully. And there was another, happy explosion that he had stopped referring to himself as "the voice."

"I will spend the night relaxing," he said. "But tomorrow - I have plans."

Idina smiled, wide and genuine, and then she flung her arms around him. He stiffened in shock, but eventually returned the gesture. She laughed. 

"Severus?"

"Yes."

"I know you asked me to leave-" and now her tone had deepened further, into something silky and sultry that sent curls of pleasure down his spine- "but would you so object to the thought of me staying?"

He woke up the next morning feeling not at all like himself, in Idina's massive four-poster bed.


	14. Thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A surprise visit has Severus questioning Idina's identity.

Idina was reading a book when he woke up, pillows propped up against the headboard. Her blonde curls were still loose around her face from when she had taken it out last night, and he was startled at how much younger and softer it made her look. Of course he could still see the edge to her smile, the proud, curved nose and the coldness to her eyes; he didn't think he could justify his love for her if she was as dainty as all the hair made her seem. But seeing her read in the early morning with her hair down reminded him that he was merely twenty-one and she was twenty-three.

He hadn't felt his own age in years. _Perhaps being a Death Eater aged you,_ he thought dryly.

Immediately, the revelations of last night hit him like a wind. It was still uncomfortable to view himself in a purely objective light (or at least, more objectively than he had been.) His very soul felt sick to the touch. But it was also liberating to accept the agency he now realised he had always, at least to some extent, had. He had made his decisions - sickening ones, yes, but he _had_ made them. And he had been given the chance, through the greed of the Ministry, to make better ones.

He felt his eyes sliding to Idina again, the sharp jawline and the long, crimson nails. She was reading a book that hardly looked especially cerebral, but anything was infinitely better than the ridiculous romance novels her bedroom also held in abundance. She looked strange in her nightgown, a red silky thing that was barely there and had obviously been chosen for seductive purposes. (Just because he saw through it didn't mean that it couldn't work.) Perhaps it was the lack of tassels, or maybe she just wasn't on her guard, but she definitely looked different. 

Hardly in a negative way, though, he thought, with renewed appreciation for her hair. So far, he hadn't exactly made _bad_ choices.

"You're very contemplative in the morning," she murmured, eyes still not moving from her book.

"Yesterday was eventful."

She inclined her head and marked her place with a bejewelled bookmark, placing the poetry collection back on her bedside table. "Would you like breakfast?"

"I don't often eat in the morning."

Idina's eyes glittered. "Minnie!" 

Minnie popped in at once, seemingly unfazed at the presence of a naked man in her mistress' bed. "Yes, Miss Idina?"

"I will have my normal breakfast in bed, thank you. Can you prepare some fruit for Severus?"

"Fruit?" he asked, as Minnie popped out again.

"Even if it's something light, you should eat in the morning. Fruit should not be too heavy even if you are unaccustomed to breakfast."

Severus bristled at her mothering, which only resulted in a wide smile. He scowled. "What are you reading?"

"John Keats," she said, turning the book over so she could show him the cover. "My father loved Muggle poetry. Have you read any before?"

"No," he admitted. His mother - like him - had not been one for the words of poets. He preferred plain speaking or cynical, persuasive deception; not the pretty paradise you could only find in poetry and the lives of the lucky few. Idina had good taste, though (both in poetry and fruit) and he found himself drawn into a discussion of the Romantics in a way he would not have expected himself to be.

"There is little use in the sort of cleverness that cannot extend itself to poetry," said Idina, who was eating a bacon sandwich on a plate that looked like a slab of black quartz. "What is the point of facts if we cannot hook them to dreams?"

Severus snorted. "The world can function well enough without dreams."

"It can function," said Idina, eyes sharp and bright, "but not well. Where would we be if no-one had dreamed of anything?" They descended into debate with as much ease as one would sink into a bath, her eyes sparkling as if she knew that Severus thought her right but would not admit it. They transitioned naturally from subject to subject, midway through the topic of Experimental Breeding when Minnie returned, looking a little frantic.

"I am fine for seconds, thank you, Minnie. More fruit, Severus? Or something more substantial?"

"That was quite enough for the morning," he said. 

"That is not why I is coming, Miss Idina!" squeaked Minnie, who looked as indignant as he had ever seen her. "There are men at the door."

Idina scowled, reaching across the table for pins to clip her hair up again. "Who?"

"Aurors, miss!"

Severus felt a surge of emotion that threatened to swallow him. He had been given more than enough to cope with already. 

Idina's face rolled into contempt; she flicked her wand almost lazily and, like a projection onto air, an image of Potter, Black and Lily outside their front door came into view. 

"Their pursuit of you is quite relentless," she said, voice tinged with something like amusement. 

"I apologise for bringing them to your house-"

She waved a spidery hand. "I am not afraid of Aurors. Particularly these ones, from your description." She rose from the bed. "Have some more food. Read some of the poetry. I will deal with them."

"I-"

"You have barely begun the process of recovering from yesterday," she said crisply, pulling her hair up with an ornate clip. "This is all most inconsiderate on their behalf, I must say."

"I do not think they are acting out of consideration."

The image of Black pounded on the door. "Oi, elf! We know that Snape is in here." 

Idina's lip curled further. "It appears that they are impatient that I come to greet them." 

"They are looking for me, not you."

"Well, you at least need to dress before you meet them. You can alter something of mine-"

"Absolutely not."

Her eyes twinkled. "Surely you are secure enough in yourself to wear women's robes, Severus?"

"Not with that many feathers."

She laughed. "Very well. Minnie - bring something of Caspian's that you think will be to Severus' taste. I trust you know the altering charms?"

"Elf!" the image of Sirius barked. He pulled out his wand. "That's it - I'm going to-"

"She has the same wards as Snape does, Sirius. You know how that ended last time," said Potter, glaring up at the gates. "What was the elf called again?"

_"Minnie,"_ said Lily reproachfully. Potter rolled his eyes. 

"Fine. Be polite to Snape. Be nice to house elves. Anything else?"

"Those are hardly chores!" the Lily image snapped.

"I know the altering charms," said Severus, watching as Idina pulled on a black robe that covered little more than the nightgown. "Are you not going to dress?"

She sniffed. "They have interrupted me in early morning, so they'll forgive me appearing in my night-clothes." She stopped to put on jewellery, though; a heavy black pendant carved with the face of a grinning, fork-tongued dog.

"I hardly think they'll mind your appearance too much," he said dryly.

Idina smiled again. "Dress, and then rest. I can stall them for plenty of time, so only appear downstairs if you think you are ready. I'll take them to the parlour." 

She kissed his cheek before he left. Severus lent back against the headboard, watching as screen Lily tapped her nails on her palm, and opened the book. 

_They lay calm-breathing, on the bedded grass;_  
_Their arms embraced, and their pinions too;_  
_Their lips touch'd not, but had not bade adieu,_  
_As if disjoined by soft-handed slumber,_  
_And ready still past kisses to outnumber_  
_tender eye-dawn of aurorean love._

The robes that Minnie brought for him were thankfully black, but with ornate golden detailing around the cuff and collar. He scowled. The image of Potter was matching his expression.

"Do you think we can break through the wards?" he asked grimly.

"Don't even _try,"_ Lily snapped. "I can't believe-" 

What Lily couldn't believe Severus never found out, because Idina opened the door. Lily stopped and then blinked. 

"Hello?" she asked cautiously. "We're looking for Severus Snape."

"So Minnie told me," said Idina. Using the clip instead of a band or pins had left her hair still attractively messy, and the skimpy nightdress and robe were doing their job. Severus could see Lily's wand relaxing in her hand. Potter's grim expression had been replaced by his general smirk, and he could see Black's eyes slipping from Idina's face and down to her legs. 

"Do you think you could tell us where he is?" Potter asked charmingly. Idina's wide smile did not falter, and Lily suddenly stiffened as if she could see the mockery in it. Severus saw her green eyes flicker to Idina's wand, a handsome mahogany thing with an ornate handle. 

"Severus is dressing," she said. "We weren't expecting early visitors."

"You must be Severus' partner," said Lily. "I'm sorry, I don't think he ever told me your name."

"Idina," she said. "Please come in. Severus may be down presently." 

Lily's expression was wary as she followed, scanning the walls. Black's face was suddenly stony; Potter looked flabbergasted. 

_"Partner?"_ he hissed. "When exactly did this happen?"

"I don't know any details. He only really mentioned it briefly- and James-"

"What?"

_"Be careful."_

"Here we are," said Idina brightly, opening up to the parlour. The room was designed for intimidation, and Severus was sure that it worked, but at least none of the three Aurors were too obvious about it. He saw Lily's eyes flicker to the expensive plates on the table. Both Black and Potter seemed more worried about the crests on the walls. Severus didn't know much of Idina's blood history, but he could guess that it was impressive. "Minnie!"

Minnie popped into the room. "Yes, Miss Idina?" 

"Some food for our guests, please." She turned to them expectantly. "Anything in particular?" 

"Breakfast, if you have it," said Lily. "It's quite early, we haven't had anything to eat yet."

Idina's eyes sparkled. "A common habit, it seems." She nodded to Minnie, and the plates were suddenly sagging with a feast that reminded Severus of Hogwarts. The parlour seemed to have energised her; she looked even more playful, like a lion with three mice. 

"It _is_ quite early," said Potter, pouring himself a cup of tea with a crystal teapot Severus would not have dared to touch. "Why is he at your house in this hour? He doesn't live here."

"I'm sure you can use your imagination."

Potter's own smile had become fixed now, his eyes clouding over. "I don't think I want to, not while I'm eating. Is there a reason you two are in a relationship?"

"A _reason?"_ Idina's smile only grew wider. "Surely I could ask the same about you and your wife?"

"I don't think that's comparable," said James coldly. 

"Indeed," said Idina softly. "Severus has told me of your views on _comparison."_

There was an awkward silence that Severus was glad to have not been part of. He pulled on the robes; whoever Caspian was, he was a lot broader of chest than Severus. He tapped the right sleeve and performed the correct charm; clothes alteration was a necessary skill when you grew up as poor as he had been. 

"You don't seem very worried," said Black.

Idina's expression was so alight with amusement that Lily flinched. Potter glared. 

"Is it a habit of yours to treat the Department of Aurors with such contempt?" he pressed. 

"They do not tend to trouble me," said Idina. "But from what I have been told, your investigations into Severus have been ongoing and, thus far, utterly fruitless. And whilst he has to worry about what your investigations might mean for his standing, I fear that when you come into contact with _me,_ it is the other way round." 

Black's mouth had twisted into a knot of pure contempt. "How _gallant_ of your pet Potioneer. So brave and noble is he that his _girlfriend_ has to use her big bad ancestors to protect him." 

"I wouldn't allude to my family name in here," said Idina lightly. "It's still rather controversial in Britain. I'm actually rather curious as to how you know it."

"My family had something of an interest," he said flatly. "Well, that's that, James." He stood up.

"What are you doing?" asked Potter, who was staring between the two of them in a confusion that Severus understood very well. "What do you mean?"

"We thought it was him, but it was her. And we wouldn't get a conviction. We'd probably die trying." Sirius' face was shadowed. "Trust me on this."

"But-" said Lily.

"It would be easier to bring down ten Lucius Malfoys. Well played to Snape." He turned abruptly on his heel. "Let's _go."_

"But this is for Peter-"

"Peter's probably already dead," said Black bluntly. 

Potter flinched. 

"I'll explain later. But we need to leave."

Lily was staring at Idina. "I thought that Severus would have manipulated _you."_

Idina stood, and her nightgown no longer mattered. She may as well have been dressed like an empress or a Queen. 

"Well, he didn't. I take it you are leaving?"

Potter met her eyes. "If Sirius is right and you did kill Peter, I'll take you down. Ten Malfoys or not."

Idina burst out laughing. Severus thought that Potter might drag out his wand, but some of the fear that Black was obviously feeling seemed to be settling in. His eyes darted around the room. The eerie portraits were so still that they might as well be Muggle paintings. 

_Yes, I will be thy priest, and build a fane_  
_ In some untrodden region of my mind,_  
_Where branched thoughts, new grown with pleasant pain, Instead of pines shall murmur in the wind: _

Who was Caspian? Severus wondered. 

And who was Idina?

_Far, far around shall those dark-cluster'd trees_  
_ Fledge the wild-ridged mountains steep by steep;_  
_And there by zephyrs, streams, and birds, and bees,_  
_ The moss-lain Dryads shall be lull'd to sleep;_  
_And in the midst of this wide quietness_  
_ A rosy sanctuary will I dress,_

"Who are you?" asked Lily. 

Idina looked amused. "I'm sure your friend can tell you that. He seems to have guessed correctly."

_With the wreath'd trellis of a working brain,_  
_ With buds, and bells, and stars without a name,_

"We need to go," said Black. His eyes were fixed, full of hate, on Idina. Lily's nostrils flared.

_With all the gardener Fancy e'er could feign,_  
_ Who breeding flowers, will never breed the same:_  
_And there shall be for thee all soft delight_  
_ That shadowy thought can win,_  
_A bright torch, and a casement ope at night,_  
_ To let the warm Love in!_

"If you hurt Severus," said Lily, voice hissing with the coldness of fires, "_I'll_ take you down or I'll die trying."

"Such hypocrisy," said Idina, voice deep and throaty in her amusement. The food on the table began to blacken and decay, the milk curdling and the tea in the cups steaming until just the dregs of the teabag were left. They were all in the shape of the Grim. The eyes of the dog on her necklace were glowing. "Do you know your own way out?" 

Potter and Black had both gone rigid, but Lily grabbed her teacup, refilled it with her wand, and drank until the cup was clean. Severus saw Idina's eyes spark with the first real annoyance that she had shown.

"I think I do," Lily said, and then she left with a swish of her cloak.

Severus looked around the room, the collection of mirrors on the right wall, and wondered what they'd be able to tell him about their lady's face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The poem Severus is reading is 'Ode to Psyche' by John Keats.


	15. Examinations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus' search for answers brings more questions.

Severus thought that he was not doing himself any favours by coming to the parlour. It was hardly a neutral arena; it was where Idina felt most comfortable and most powerful, where she could revel in her authority and the names of her ancestors, whoever they might be. But he wanted to examine the crests up close, and she had made no sign of moving. 

She had unclipped her hair again by the time he got down there, and was looking up at him through the curtain of blonde with imploring eyes. He rolled his own.

"I've already told you that it is ridiculous when you attempt to play the fool."

Idina stopped fluttering her eyelashes at once, and instead fixed him with a very sharp stare. It was an effort not to wince. 

"Such a harsh tone, Severus. Have I offended you?"

Severus took a seat. "I do not think you are unaware of what a step it has been for me to trust."

"I am not," she said, voice low and soft, "and I am proud of you."

"Desist with your mothering. Why did you deceive me?"

Idina arched back her head from her neck like a spitting snake, stare sharper still. "It was not deception. You were not interested in my past nor my heritage. I have not had to lie." 

Severus scowled. "I _told you_ not to play the fool."

"Oh, did you?" Her voice was cold, slippery, now. That didn't deter him. The more dangerous Idina appeared, the closer he was to the truth of the matter.

"I did indeed. You are not deficient in intelligence. You _know_ that I would have liked to have been aware that your ancestry is apparently so marvellous that it sends Black running from the house in fear. What did he say? That you are worth ten of the Malfoy family?"

Idina tossed her hair back. "More than that. And marvellous is not quite the word." Her eyes slid to the portraits. All of them remained perfectly still, but each pair of eyes was fixed on Severus. He forced himself not to shiver. "You can look at them if you want. They don't often talk, but they might respond to you."

Severus scowled, but took her up on her offer. Some of Idina's ancestors were portrayed alone, others in families or couples. The first one showed a stunningly beautiful girl with curling, bouncy blonde hair. She wasn't wearing robes but a Muggle minidress, hot pink and so low-cut that you could see the black lace bra underneath. She winked at Severus and smiled; it was a deranged, twisted thing that made him shudder, but he still found it difficult to look away. She pouted when he managed it.

"A strong one, a strong one," she said, in a sing-song voice. "No fun, no fun."

"I thought they didn't talk."

"Most don't," said Idina, who was staring at the portrait in evident dislike. 

"Veela blood?"

"Not in most of us," she responded, voice tinted with the slightest of sneers. Severus made note of that. "That is Atalanta. You need not pay attention to her."

Atalanta giggled.

"Move on," said Idina irritably. Severus added Atalanta to his list of questions. 

The next portrait was a man with Idina's nose and heavy, dark-set eyes. He wore tattered, grimy robes and his hair was messy and stringy, face twisted in contempt. Behind him was a woman with blonde hair and cold eyes, and in his hands he held a bloody, tattered bird.

"Don't bother with _them,_ either," said Idina. 

"Your parents?" asked Severus.

"Barely." 

He could sympathise with that, so he moved on; the next portrait was a couple. The man looked very much like Idina's father, and paid Severus no mind. The woman looked nothing like either of them, with pert, delicate features and dark curly hair, but he could see more of Idina's personality in her than he could her father. She gave Severus a slight, imperious smile.

"My grandmother, Penelope." 

"What was she like?"

"I loved her. I do not love many members of my family." 

"She resembles Megaera." 

Idina smiled despite herself. It was warmer than usual. "Indeed. I am glad." 

"This is in order of ancestry, then?"

"Of course."

"So Atalanta is your sister?"

Idina looked a little sour. "I know that her - _blood_ \- makes her intriguing to men. But she should not be your focus."

"It is less her blood and more your reaction that interests me."

"Well then, I shall tell you about her once you've understood the _important_ things."

Atalanta stuck out her tongue.

Severus continued to progress down the line of portraits. A few offered twisted smiles such as Atalanta's, but most of them appeared impassive. They were as still as he had ever seen portraits. 

"The necklace you are wearing. A family heirloom?"

Idina smiled. "You _are_ looking closely."

"May I examine the real thing?"

"I do not think it wise for you to touch it, yet. It can be temperamental, you see."

Severus decided on that as another question and continued to move around the room. As the portraits grew older, the necklace appeared more and more, and a dog with a snake's tongue was a common image. One man had it at the top of his staff; one family was posing with a living, fork-tongued dog. Both the paint and the robes appeared more and more old as he went on.

"How far back can you trace your family?"

"To Alexander the Great. I would have loved for Cleopatra to be in here, but unfortunately, I'm not her direct descendant. This room is only for my exact family line."

Severus paused at a picture of an old man and three children, scrutinising the background. "Greece?"

"Athens, to be exact."

Severus paused at a portrait. It had an ornate golden frame like the rest, but it had blackened, the patterns twisting and melting into one another. He had a long beard that reminded Severus of Dumbledore, but that thought felt almost treasonous when he stared into the old man's face. It had been distorted as his presence had distorted the frame; something in it reminded him of the Dark Lord. 

"Do you recognise him?"

Severus stared at the photograph. The man had a cutting smile and a dirty neck, and was holding a twisted, knotty staff. His robes were dirty and he did not have the necklace. It certainly seemed familiar. 

"Has he not been educated?" asked the portrait. His voice had the sing-song quality of Atalanta's, but it was rough. He had a strong accent, both far from English and the Greek accents Severus had heard, which he supposed was to do with time. The coldness in it again reminded him of Voldemort.

"Most people are educated nowadays," said Idina. "But you are kept as quiet as possible when it comes to the curriculum."

The portrait glared. The eyes of the dog on her necklace began to glow. Severus thought he saw fear - at least, a flash of it - across Idina's face.

"Why?" the portrait croaked. "Why should I be silenced? After all my work - all my experimentation-"

Severus stared at the portrait once more. Around the edges of the picture was the curving form of a snake, brilliant green and easily wider than the skinny old man. He had not been surprised; many of Idina's ancestors had employed serpent iconography. It had been in fashion for families such as hers, after all, what with Salazar Slytherin. 

But this was Athens - Classical Athens, by the looks of things. Salazar Slytherin had not been born yet. 

He swallowed.

"Herpo the Foul," he said at last. The portrait looked at him with blazing eyes.

_"Foul?"_ he hissed.

Idina sniffed. "I do not know how you were expecting history to remember you." 

Herpo's face contorted, and Idina gasped. The dog's eerie smile stretched, the necklace rippling strangely. Severus eyed it.

"I am aware that you probably know more about this artefact than me," he said, "but my general interest in the Dark Arts advises me that it should be taken off."

Idina nodded frantically, reaching behind her hair to unclasp it. Severus' eyes widened. She was able to undo the chain, but the dog remained fixed on her breast, eyes glowing, the chain hanging uselessly from it. Severus brandished his wand.

"Don't try and curse it," she said, shielding it with her hands. "Don't-"

"It could hurt you."

"It _is_ hurting," said Idina snappishly, but he could see tears catching in her eyes. She was scrabbling at the pendant with her nails. Herpo the portrait was chuckling.

"I know spells that will help you-"

"Which I'm sure the Ministry will have questions about should you cast them. Besides - Severus - you have to promise me one thing."

Severus frowned. "What?"

"That you won't harm the necklace."

"But-"

"Promise me!" Idina's tone was fierce. "I know that you are someone who may genuinely be capable of doing so. Please do not try."

Herpo's gleeful, manic eyes were fixed on him now. Severus knew the answer that he wanted.

"I will not," he said slowly, and she gasped in relief. The pendant fell to the floor, the dog grinning up at Idina's hunched form. Severus could see an angry, dog-shaped burn.

"You need to treat that." 

Idina shook her head. "Salves don't work on burns from the necklace." She picked it up, cradling it in her palm as if it were a delicate flower. "Come; I must put this upstairs." Her voice was a poor imitation of it's usual composure, timid and shaky. 

Severus' eyes flickered towards the portrait of Herpo. "Are there to be repercussions if I attempt to soothe the burn?"

Herpo grinned widely. "Only if you fail."

"He means that," said Idina. Her glance towards Severus was blazing with affection. "He admires intelligence."

Deciding that it would be better if Herpo approved of him, Severus examined the burn. It was an angry red, but violet at the edges as if it was a bruise. The veins in her breast were raised. He smiled.

"What is it?"

"This is somewhat reminiscent of an Ancient Greek curse that was an invention of Herpo's, I believe." He gazed at the pendant. "It's fascinating that he managed to transfer it into the locket."

"What is the curse?"

"I only know the Greek."

"You can read Greek?"

"Mainly because it allowed me to access potent Dark Arts in my youth." Herpo looked pleased. Unsure if he wanted the appreciation of the portrait or not, Severus rose to his feet. "You have a Potions room here, do you not? I can create a salve for you."

"Tell me if it works," said Herpo, fixing them both with a rather nasty grin. 

"Bye bye!" called Atalanta. Idina rolled her eyes.

Severus noticed as they walked through the corridors that none of her corridors had portraits in them. "You confine your ancestors to your parlour?"

"I do not want them elsewhere in my house."

Severus nodded. "Of course." He wondered if a softer tone would be appropriate; Idina was obviously shaken, but he was not practiced at gentleness and he thought it might offend her. It would be best to treat her as he always did so as not to offend her pride whilst she was still sensitive and angry. "And not even Herpo has found a way to transcend his portrait?"

"Portraits were not such a concept in his day, which is thankful, or he might have investigated them enough to do so." Idina opened the door to her laboratory. It was a nice room, with good equipment, but more made for home-brewing than professional Potions. Severus had expected as much. 

"I daresay you might spend some time here," said Idina, sitting. "You're welcome to replace anything."

"There is no need," said Severus, who's voice had suddenly gone very dry. Idina looked vulnerable. It was the hair, of course, but also the burn, and the fact that she looked genuinely afraid and confused. Her eyes were wide and imploring again, but this time he did not think it was an act.

"I am sorry," she said softly. "I did deceive you. You believed me to be more capable than I am."

"You are very capable," he said, opening her stock cupboard and gazing at the ingredients critically. Healing salves could easily be created with any number of things; and for the one he was about to design, the more unconventional, the better. Thankfully, he'd gotten fairly good at improvising such potions when using limited ingredients on raids. Herpo - the bastard - had designed the curse to be difficult to shift more than painful, but Severus knew far more about the different uses of Potions ingredients than anyone had in his day. He gathered the first of those he wanted and took them to a cauldron. "But it appears that you are coping with far more than anyone could expect. I also apologise. I have been a burden when you were already undergoing much."

"Don't leave."

Severus' spine stiffened. "Excuse me?"

"I know that my situation is the opposite of ideal. But please stay with me. It has been unimaginable doing it on my own." 

Severus crushed some Biting Violets under his knife and poured them into the boiling Butober pus. He was suddenly reminded of Hannah and her overboiled potion. His job at the Ministry seemed very far away. 

"I was not going to leave," was all he said. "I do, however, wish to discuss."

"Of course."

"I want to understand everything fully."

Idina nodded. 

"I will prioritise your safety. But I will not bow to a monster. Not again."

Idina's face spoke for her. Severus scowled. "I _said_ that I would not leave."

"You also said that you would not bow to my ancestors." Idina's eyes were wide and searching. "Do you have it in you to play the hero, Severus? Because even after I have explained, I am not sure you can truly understand what that would mean."

Severus left the boiling potion and began sorting through Idina's beetles. She had many different breeds, which he appreciated. Some of these were found far outside of Greece and unlikely to have been accounted for. 

"Perhaps you are right," he said at last, "and I am making statements I cannot possibly hold myself to. But I do not want to leave you; I do not want to bow to a monster; and I am tired of being deprived of what I want." He decapitated eleven African black lawn beetles and poured them in, smiling in satisfaction as the potion coloured lavender. "You said last night that I could be anything. Perhaps I will try the hero."

"You are admirable," said Idina. Her tone was detached; Severus knew it would be a while before she accepted that he was truly willing to play such a role. She approached the potion. "It is ready?"

"Yes, but leave it to cool, or you will burn yourself all the more." He stared at her. "Are you feeling better?"

"Much," she said, her voice clipped. Severus had been right to guess that her pride would be wounded by her vulnerability. "I am going to actually dress and check on Megaera."

He inclined his head, allowing her the time to compose herself. He needed it to think, anyway. He did not understand much of her behaviour; her protectiveness over the very locket that had burned her, her hatred for her sister, and her willingness to expose him to her ancestors (particularly Herpo) when she knew how they were. He also did not understand the locket, or the magic it had clearly been infused with; there was something clearly sinister about the portraits (again, particularly Herpo), and he was still yet to receive any real explanation on her family and the way it had affected Black.

Answers would come soon. And then, war.

His thinking was soon interrupted by buzzing. He turned, frowning, to see that the African beetles appeared alive. He brandished his wand.

_ATALANTA IS THE ANSWER,_ the beetles wrote.


	16. Deceptions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus sets new plans into motion without consulting Idina.

Idina had not explained.

She had come out her room with bright red eyes and wet cheeks, cradling Megaera to her chest. After applying the salve, she had gone to sit by the fire. The whole day she wouldn't let Megaera out of her sight, snapping at Minnie to bring her cot in for her nap. Severus had said nothing, continuing to read his poetry book. 

"I thought you wanted answers," she said, in a brittle voice, when it became clear that he was not going to say anything.

"I assumed that you'd give them when you felt less fragile," he replied. Her fingers curled into fists, but she didn't try to prove him wrong, continuing to stare into the flames. Megaera batted at her mother's chest as if trying to reassure her, and then made a questioning noise. Idina was usually attentive towards her daughter, particularly when it came to physical affection, so he couldn't blame the child for being confused.

"Did you not make me a drink?"

Severus jerked his head, startled, to see the cup of tea in front of him. He hadn't remembered it. Then again, this was exactly how he made his own tea. It was the right colour, in a nice mug, not one of Idina's bulky crystal ones. 

When had she got cups from his house? Should he ask her?

Probably not. She was upset. All the same, he should have made her one. His drink looked very inviting.

"Would you like me to make you one?" he asked, shaking his head as if to clear his thoughts of tea.

Idina shook her head absently. "Minnie!"

Severus raised the cup to his lips. It smelled like his own teabags, not Idina's heavily perfumed ones that made his mouth curdle. She must have taken teabags too. Gratified, he took a sip. It tasted like pure honey. 

He must have been thirsty, for it to taste so nice, he thought dully. He drained the cup in an instant. 

"Do you want anything to eat?" asked Idina listlessly. 

Severus shook his head and carried on reading. Idina nodded and waved her hand in dismissal to Minnie, face still pale; she was clearly in the mood where starting crying had made her feel incapable of stopping. He supposed that it didn't matter if she didn't want to talk. He had plenty to think on. Idina had been irritated by his interactions with Atalanta; if it was her who enchanted the beetles suggesting that he investigate her, she would be playing a very complex mind game that he wouldn't attribute to her character. That meant it had to be one of the portraits. His first guess would naturally be Herpo - he had been the only one openly malicious - but Idina seemed fairly sure that he couldn't transcend his portrait, and Severus didn't think that the twisted old man would have been able to keep that secret. He had no issue displaying his power, both now and in all the historical accounts of him that Severus had read.

Megaera whimpered, pulling on her mother's hair. "Mama." 

Idina blinked as if just seeing her daughter, but willingly took hold of her hands, and began to croon a little song. Satisfied that her mother was feeling better, Megaera began mumbling and giggling in time to the tune, but Severus could see further; Idina's face was tired, and her throat kept catching. It did at least seem that the song and her daughter's happiness were improving her own mood. 

"How is the burn?" Severus asked, once the song had finished, and her face was substantially brighter.

"It has healed," said Idina. "My thanks."

Severus nodded, mouth sour. "Should I tell the portrait?"

Idina went very still, apart from her hands, which were still playing with Megaera's hair. "Don't refer to Herpo as a portrait."

His mouth turned more sour still. "Is that out of respect, or as a mode of caution?"

She didn't answer. Severus supposed that she wasn't ready to answer any questions on her evidently complex relationship with Herpo. He tamed the flame of frustration with difficulty.

_She was patient and tolerant with you. And you still do not understand what she is undergoing, but her problems seem substantially larger than yours._

"I will not. May I go?" 

She nodded, now braiding Megaera's hair. The toddler had a wild head of thick, beautiful curls that now reminded Severus of Atalanta, even though they were dark. It wasn't a thought he dared voice.

The corridors seemed gloomy and the walls bare, now that he knew that there was a decision to keep them void of frames. He understood once he stepped inside the parlour, though; the room of portraits was as grim as he had remembered it. Atalanta clapped her hands at once at his entrance, nodding and shouting enthusiastically. 

This reaction suggested that she at least knew of the message, even if she wasn't responsible for sending it. It could be that she was merely excited to see him, but something in him doubted it.

"Seve-_rus!_ Seve-_rus!"_ He approached the portrait cautiously, glad that she had called him first. It gave him reasonable excuse to talk with her, especially considering that she had Veela blood and presumably had the ability to draw in male figures. It was important to remember that even if Idina was not watching, the other portraits were. 

"Atalanta," he said evenly. "What would you like to speak to me about?"

"Secrets, secrets," she said, in a sing-song voice. "Too many eyes. Idina has hundreds and hundreds!" 

"Very well," he said. "What _can_ you speak to me about?"

"Secrets, secrets. If only you can find them!"

Idina's mother rolled her eyes. Severus had wondered if she could have sent the message; but she seemed annoyed by Atalanta as Idina was. He didn't think she would have encouraged him to speak with her. Maybe it was the father, who remained blank-faced. Or maybe Atalanta herself - Bellatrix and the Dark Lord (and to some extent, Dumbledore) had taught him that mad people were often far more powerful than their behaviour led you to believe.

"How can I find them?"

"Find me," said Atalanta, and then she giggled again. "Shhh!" 

"Have I not found you? I'm speaking to you already."

Atalanta shook her head fervently, the curls bouncing everywhere. 

Idina's mother's lip curled. "Ignore the whore; I'm sure that you can see that she is quite different to the rest of the family. Explain your presence here."

"Different, different!" repeated Atalanta. "Alive, alive, alive!" 

Idina's mother looked like her face was concaving. "Do not waste your time. If you wish to speak, we have a vast number of highly respected ancestors-"

"St Mungo!" said Atalanta earnestly. 

Severus arched an eyebrow.

"Surprisingly, that's true," said Idina's mother coldly. Her voice was generally quite cold, and very deep for a woman. "But this is not a place you can go when in want of chatter. As already said, explain your presence here. You should not attend to us without Idina's leave."

"I would not dream of it," said Severus smoothly. "She is aware that I have come. I merely wanted to tell Herpo that the salve worked."

The portrait chuckled ominously from his side of the room. Severus inclined his head.

"Madam," he said, to Idina's mother. She did not respond, so he turned to Atalanta instead. "Thank you for telling me about St Mungo."

She nodded excitedly and clapped her hands some more. Idina's mother's lip curled, the father's face as stony as ever. Severus had to hide a smile as he left the room.

He wouldn't be surprised if Atalanta was indeed the only portrait able to affect things around the house. She _was_ alive - he was sure of it - which meant that she wasn't practicing from beyond the grave, which he was still confused as to how Herpo had managed to do. And considering how little she was respected, she could experiment however she wanted and they'd assume she was doing nothing of importance. 

Strangely, he could relate. His mouth tasted like the honey-tea again.

When he returned to the living room, Idina looked even more drawn than she had. Megaera was crying softly, and perhaps because she was so close to crying herself, none of her mother's attempts could soothe her. Idina looked at Severus with desperate eyes.

"Why do you not call Minnie to look after her? You are tired today."

"I'm her mother. I should look after her." 

"You do," said Severus gently. "But you cannot look after her if you cannot even look after yourself."

"I can't while she's crying," said Idina desperately. "Hush, sweetheart, please-"

Megaera began crying louder.

Severus swept his wand, and it exploded in a series of fireworks and interesting noises. Megaera jammed her thumb in her mouth and her tears quieted to whimpers, but she still stared at Severus somewhat suspiciously. It seemed that she had inherited her mother's sharpness. 

"She likes to be talked to," said Idina, who was staring at the fireworks as if she were an enthralled child herself.

"I don't know how to talk to a toddler."

"Tell her about the healing salve. I am interested too. What did you put in it?"

Severus arched his eyebrow, but began a description of Biting Violets. Megaera listened transfixed, and when he summoned one from the storeroom (dead and with the teeth removed, of course) she squealed and clapped her pudgy fists with delight, reaching out for it. When he consented to give it to her, she squealed again, holding it aloft like a trophy.

"It appears that you've made a Potioneer of my daughter," said Idina, and her eyes were tired but a lot less vulnerable. He spent the rest of the night talking through Potions ingredients, and by the end of the night, Megaera was put to sleep in a pile of flowers. She screeched in indignance if either of them attempted to take one, and she wouldn't let go of the violet. Severus could not stop the smile of pride from slipping across his face, nor the growing feelings of fondness as she sank into unconsciousness.

"You did well with her," said Idina, breaking the silence in which they had watched her sleep. "It becomes very difficult, when one is undergoing hardships and you are the only parent. I want to give her a childhood better than my own."

"At least you wanted to create something kinder than you were given. I was too bitter to think about the sort of childhood I wanted to give my own children," said Severus, and then he laughed shortly. "You have made me view myself as far less of a sympathetic creature."

"Far more of a marvellous one, though."

The silence drifted in again, like a gentle fog, but after a few minutes, Idina was shifting in her chair. In half an hour she had moved to the sofa, and by nine o'clock she was in his arms. 

He summoned ink and parchment as soon as she fell asleep. 

Deception by omission was essentially what Idina had done, Severus reminded himself. He had not outright lied to her, and he shouldn't have to for quite some time, by which he would have enough information to defend himself. He had a suspicion that this was the kind of situation so complex that anyone could justify any action. 

_There are unjustifiable actions,_ said Clarissa. Severus ignored her. 

Even if there were, this was not one. This was capitalising on connections. Solving a mystery. Righting a wrong, in fact, because Severus had a feeling that he was about to uncover some sort of deep injustice. Besides, Idina was clearly too prejudiced to look at whatever was happening objectively. Even if Atalanta had not moved to contact her directly (which Severus supposed she hadn't, with the way she was talked about and treated) she should have noticed that she was able to wield this level of power over her home. Simply enchanting the beetles from this distance with that much accuracy was surprising. The fact that she waited for Idina to leave suggested that she was watching the house.

And the girl was clearly unstable; she could do far more damage with the power she had, and there was no indication that she wouldn't. Clearly, he was doing Idina a favour.

His mouth tasted of honey. Idina shifted in his arms.

Severus repositioned himself and read the letter one last time.

_Dear Lucius,_

_I am glad that your charitable efforts have seen you returned to your Manor. It was indeed a worry that the Malfoy family would be bereft of its head, with Draco so young._

_I daresay that a man such as yourself already knows of the swiftness with which I myself am moving, and I find myself aligned to many of the causes you have recently taken on. In particular, your most generous endorsements of St Mungo's. I have become intrigued as to the treatment of Veela, and was wondering if in your own work you have come across a person at the hospital it would be wise to speak with. They are a controversial issue, after all._

_Regards,_

_Severus Snape_

Idina did not stir as the owl flew away, but Megaera did. Perhaps she could sense that Severus had found in Atalanta what her mother felt for her; she would receive kindness beyond what Severus had been given. 

Lucius' letter arrived far more quickly than he had expected; Idina was still asleep. He had always adopted a sneering, condescending attitude with Severus, and as such he had expected for his request to go to the bottom of his doubtlessly stacked pile. Maybe such a hurried response was a sign of disrespect in Pureblood culture.

Severus shrugged. It was perfectly useful as it was, if insulting. 

_Dear Severus,_

_Your kindness does not go unappreciated, nor do your insinuations. I am indeed aware of the consequences for my family name and line should I be sent to Azkaban, and am willing to cooperate with you so long as that does not remain your goal. I have also heard whispers of your growing influence, although Ms Zabini has been surprisingly unforthcoming. You must be the favourite of her projects._

_As for Veela, I must confess that I know very little. Nice-looking things of course, but their blood makes them no good for breeding. As well as simply being impure, I do confess that I find them inclined to hysteria, and melodramatic to boot. Not to mention that the vast majority of them have not been raised in England. With this in mind, it's no surprise that you'll find plenty of them at St Mungo's; there's even a specific ward, although I warn you that my opinion is shared by the majority of the population and you shall receive far less praise for this than your pretty lycanthropy study._

_If you are determined, however, I do indeed know such a fanatic. Her name is Lilith Moore, a Muggleborn witch who oversees magical creatures at the hospital. She's the kind of naïve, bright-eyed fool who will believe that you're doing this out of the good of your heart._

_Lucius_

Severus smiled to himself and began composition of a letter to Lilith Moore.


	17. Meetings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus continues work on his projects, but a startling discovery makes one a sudden priority.

It felt odd to be back at work.

He had had to leave Idina sleeping alone, which had been surprisingly difficult - Severus contemplated if he was getting too attached to Idina, and the thought made his mouth feel thick with the taste of honey. He frowned and took some water. Hopefully, he was not ill: Hannah was, which was why it was so imperative that he come in. He might have taken the day off otherwise, even if his relationship with his employers was somewhat tenuous, because he had a lot to think on as well as his meeting with Echo. But as she was sick, it could not be helped.

He shredded the Lacewings, shaking his head irritably as he examined them. His cut had been too harsh; it was serrated, almost as if he hadn't bothered with a knife and decided to rip it. Scowling, he swept his desk clean and started with a new batch; potions like these might not demand his full attention as his projects did, but he didn't like the thought of lowering his standards. He _definitely_ didn't like the thought of being so preoccupied that he couldn't cut Lacewings properly.

Once he had shredded them to his satisfaction and they had been added to the potion, that was all the preparation needed for the day. The room had plenty cauldrons, despite only hosting two employees, so he was able to work on multiple potions at the same time. Normally he would not take such a risk, but these were pitifully simple and his meeting with Echo would take a chunk out of his time. He needed to do all his duties here before attending to that, just so that nobody could complain.

_They'd be fools to,_ he thought, laying out his notes in front of him. He couldn't help but admire the elegance of this work, and he could taste the victory he would have over the Wizarding public once they were forced to recognise this too. None of the potions would require attention for a short while, so it made sense to use this time to ensure that he understood his preliminary recipe for Wolfsbane properly. Echo had not introduced himself as a Potioneer, but Severus expected the man to be knowledgeable in at least some areas and Potions would be an excellent choice with his exacting, practical personality. He wanted to be more sure of himself than he would have to be with Caroline and Roberta, who were mostly wanting to know how it would impact baby Lorna. Head filled with the thoughts of the gratitude he was sure to receive, he quickly lost himself in his musings. 

"Those look complicated."

Severus started. He turned ready to snap, abruptly quieted by the sight of Lily. She looked more nervous than he had seen her since her teenage years, running her tongue across her teeth.

"They are," he said shortly, organising his papers into a stack with a flick of his wand. Another charm and the paper became unreadable. Lily laughed a little.

"Don't worry, Sev, I'm not here to sell your secrets. I don't think I'd understand them, anyway."

"Why are you here, then? Is this another attempt to arrest me?"

Her tongue flicked over her lip again. "No. And I don't think you have to worry about James and Sirius being that - _obvious,_ again, either."

"That's nice," he said dryly, moving across to stir the second cauldron. Swirls of lilac began to filtrate through the pale green stage the potion was currently at.

"A Soothing Solution?" asked Lily timidly. She had always been good at Potions. Not as good as Severus, of course, but able.

"Yes," he said abruptly, and then clamped his jaw before he could say anymore. If she had a purpose in coming, she could state it - or wheel round to it, if her mood was anything to go by.

"Sirius explained what he knew about your girlfriend and her family."

"As did she after your visit." _Not quite, but she will._ "I naturally had questions about your conversation."

__

Lily's jaw moved. "You knew we came?"

__

"Surely you were not expecting me to catapult myself into your custody?"

__

"I wasn't expecting _any_ of that, Sev. I just wanted you to know that - I'm here. For you." Her face flushed as if she was embarrassed. He supposed that she probably was.

__

When he turned to look up at her, the movement was slow and almost incredulous. "Are you here to pledge your _support?"_ The tone in his voice took her out of her anxiety a little; her eyes sharpened, and she tossed her hair. 

__

"You don't have to sound like I completely _abandoned_ you-"

__

"How would you phrase it?"

__

"I would phrase it that I was taking care of myself! You _chose_ to be a Death Eater, Sev! Someone that willingly murders people like me! And-"

__

"I know." 

__

She stopped in astonishment. 

__

"I am coming to terms with truly understanding that," he said at last, when it seemed that she was not going to continue her tirade. "People in sane states of mind do not make that decision, and I am in between what I used to be and what I could. But I do understand that it was a choice now, a choice to genuinely support the Dark Lord. And for all that turned me into - for all I was, and all I became, and the part I played in what that meant for our friendship - I am sorry."

__

Lily sniffed and folded her arms, which he knew was her way of saying he shouldn't expect an apology from her side. "And what took you to that revelation?"

__

"A combination of Idina and my Mind Healer. You didn't know that I had changed my mind, though. So for what reason did you come here?"

__

"When you were a Death Eater, I had to go," said Lily hotly. She seemed indignant that her motives needed explaining. "It would have been like a mouse willingly remaining friends with a cat. But even if what you're mixed up in now sounds horrible, it's not all that more dangerous for me than it is for you." She breathed out in an evidently conscious effort to calm down, and then gestured around her. "You've got a good deal here, Sev. A better one than you deserve. And it's already obvious that you're actually taking the chance to be a better person than you were. I want to make sure that she doesn't mess that up for you."

__

Severus' immediate reaction was a wish to defend Idina. It made his tongue taste fleshy and sour. He pushed his feelings aside and inclined his head; he could imagine what it looked like from Lily's perspective.

__

"I don't object to your friendship and support. I have missed it. But I want you to try and get along with Idina. She is powerful, but not a threat."

__

Lily sniffed again, but her eyes were watery and shining at him in a way that made him feel nine years old again. "Honestly, Sev, I'm not _James._ If you think that we can get past the initial awkwardness of our first interaction, I'll be civil to her. We might even be friends - _if_ you're right about her."

__

"I would expect no less," he said, turning off the fire now that the potion was a deep purple. "She has a child around the same age as Harry."

__

Lily smiled. "I'll keep that in mind. He loves meeting new people. Oh - and Sev?"

__

"Yes."

__

"When I said that James and Sirius wouldn't be _obvious_ about it-"

__

"I picked up on the insinuation." He searched her face. "I value your friendship, but only in it's entirety. I don't want a shallow imitation of it."

__

"What does that mean?"

__

"It means that I won't accept you having a part in any future attacks on my person."

__

Lily flinched. He supposed that it made her look bad, phrased like that. That wasn't a particular issue for him. 

__

"I won't," she said finally. "It's all too - cloak and dagger for me anyway." Severus smirked a little. The idea of those two attempting anything underhanded or genuinely deceptive was almost ridiculous in his mind's eye. Lily must have picked up on that, because her eyes sharpened. "And don't underestimate them too badly, either, Sev." 

__

"I promise," said Severus, tone tinged with amusement. He didn't view them as a threat anymore - not now. But he knew that they were all somewhat stuck in their schooldays where they bested him regularly.

__

Lily looked relieved that he had agreed. "Really, Sev. Do be careful." He resisted the urge to roll his eyes at her; he supposed that this was how Gryffindors hinted to one another. "I'll pop around soon with Harry. Enjoy your work."

__

She left as silently as he came, but Severus felt far more content. It was by no means what they used to have, but it was certainly a start, perhaps of something healthier and stronger than their relationship in the past. 

__

__

Echo was easy to spot in the glamourous atmosphere of Miss Chantelle's. He was wearing a pinstripe suit again, but it was navy and not black. Severus smiled thinly, wondering if he was thinking the same about Severus' robes, which had shifted from black to charcoal-grey.

__

"Mr Snape." He regarded him suspiciously, but Severus didn't think that was a bad sign from such a man. "You said that you have something you think will function as _Wolfsbane."_

__

Severus inclined his head, placing a small vial and the notes on the desk. "It should."

__

Echo scanned the notes quickly, pausing at certain places, frowning slightly at the ingredients list. Severus would guess that he was familiar with potions, but not familiar enough.

__

"And why do you think it will work? I don't think there is enough theory on lycanthropy to make this any more of an educated guess in a bottle."

__

Severus arched an eyebrow. "Not enough magical theory, no. Did you know that Muggles can scan brains?"

__

Echo tilted his head. "I _am_ a Muggle, Mr Snape."

__

Severus arched the other one. "I wouldn't have guessed," he murmured faintly. He wondered how many other Muggles wandered around the magical world. Did they envy it? Detest it? Enjoy it? This stiff little man in front of him hardly looked enraptured with his surroundings. 

__

"Not many people do," Echo said crisply. "But it means I understand the theory well enough. Do you mean to tell me that their have been brain scans of transformed werewolves?"

__

Severus nodded. "In particular, which chemicals create the madness of a transformed lycanthrope. My potion shouldn't have any effect on the physical nature of the wolf; it should essentially turn the events of a full moon into a compulsory Animagus transformation, by neutralising or blocking the reactions in the brain that move werewolves to harm themselves and others."

__

Echo smiled. It was a sharp smile, not an approving one. "I should like to see the studies you have used."

__

"Then we can discuss that later. For now, I would like your help. Whilst it is based on evidence, it remains that this potion has been based on theory. Could you provide me with willing test subjects?"

__

"Test subjects?" asked Echo slowly. "More information will be needed. Werewolves - understandably - fling themselves at anything promising to be a cure. This can easily damage them."

__

"There is nothing toxic in the potion, as with anything that I brew with the intent of human consumption. They will not be harmed."

__

"And with the diminishment of hope? I can do my best to find some people that will be both willing and discreet, but if it gets out that Severus Snape has brewed a cure and then your potion is a failure, people will be crushed." Echo surveyed him with narrowed eyes. "I do not represent a community that will withstand many problems, and I fear that your notoriety could easily turn you into a large one."

__

"You can imagine that I don't want that dent in my reputation. I would appreciate it if you found discreet people. Make it clear that this is an initial draft and that it is being tested on them so that I can genuinely perfect it. But I _shall_ bring a cure. I have pledged to do so." 

__

Echo stared at him, flicked through the notes again, and then nodded. "Very well. I will hold up my end of the bargain. But remember: you want no enemy in me, Mr Snape." 

__

"Of course," said Severus. He didn't mind admitting it, nor did he mind that Echo's hand was as cool as his words as he shook it. He had no problem with competent adversaries, particularly when they were working towards a similar goal. "You wanted to see those studies?"

__

"Yes. How did you come by them?"

__

"I have an … interest in werewolves," Severus said at last. He wasn't sure how wise it was to confess to Echo that he had such a negative history. "I went to some lengths to procure them - I'm sure you know, as a Muggle operating in the way you do, that very little Muggle technology is curated into studying even in the presence of magic, let alone focused on it. I will of course require _some_ payment."

__

Echo surveyed him in strained amusement. "Very well. Will telling you that you are under the influence of a potion function as sufficient payment, Mr Snape?"

__

Severus' head jerked. "Excuse me?"

__

"As a Muggle, I have procured a … sensitivity to magic. I can't check for the tricks and deceptions magical people might play with my wand, you see, so I needed to find something. One of the advantages is that I don't have to consciously check. I can see its mark on you."

__

Severus' eyes narrowed. "I'm sure you're aware that I would not be pleased if you are playing me for a fool."

__

"Of course."

__

"And that I would expect you to mention this as soon as we met, for fear that the potion could make me violent or dangerous."

__

"Oh, no. It's merely influencing your mind." Echo surveyed him. "I'd say by triggering some form of pleasure and reward - on specific topics, too, because you were perfectly capable of conducting this meeting as yourself."

__

Severus ground his teeth. "Do you know the likelihood of _me_ being given a potion?"

__

"I daresay you'll wish to investigate it. If you do indeed turn up nothing, you're welcome to owl me for another price for those studies. If not, send me some copies." Echo stood stiffly as he sat, and jerked his head. "Good day, Mr Snape. I shall send you a list of potential test subjects at the earliest convenience."

__

Severus remained at the table, hoping that nobody would come up to him as Idina did. He wanted to think.

__

It would be a stupid lie for Echo to tell, not one that he would expect of someone of his calibre. First of all, as Echo himself had pointed out, he could check himself if he was under the influence of a potion. He waved his wand over his wrist, hissing through his teeth when the vein turned red and pulsed. 

__

_That meant yes._

__

But how? What had he drunk? What had he eaten?

__

He had been at Idina's. He had had coffee before leaving for work, which he chose because it was nicer than her horrific perfumed tea. And the night before he had had some pumpkin juice. Was Idina feeding him potions? 

__

His mouth tasted suddenly of honey. He dismissed it, and then his eyes widened.

__

_"I'd say by triggering some form of pleasure and reward - on specific topics, too, because you were perfectly capable of conducting this meeting as yourself."_

__

He had had tea the night before - tea he did not remember making. And it had tasted of honey.

__

But what had he been thinking about? He ignored the growing sourness in his mouth, certain that the worse it tasted, the closer he was to discovery. He had been mistrusting Idina, thinking of her as brewing potions. That made her an unlikely candidate for feeding them to him; why would she want to influence him against thinking the best of her? But then, excluding Megaera, she was the only person at her house, and she had fearsome wards.

__

_She's the only_ living _person,_ he reminded himself. _She has a room full of sentient portraits._

__

Atalanta made the most sense. Idina had spoken more disparagingly towards her than anyone else, she had the advantage of being alive, and she had already demonstrated that she had some power over the house. At least, that's what Severus had speculated. Moreover, as well as having the most motive for pushing him to mistrust Idina, all of his actions since taking the potion had worked in her favour. He had investigated hurriedly - almost foolishly - and called in a favour from an incredibly powerful acquaintance, all to see if she might be in St Mungo's, which is what her portrait had been concerned with. 

__

He threw his notes into the bag, placed the vial in as forcefully as he could without breaking it, and then stood. 

__

Atalanta had already been an object of interest. Now she had _poisoned_ him, he wasn't quite sure how to define her, but the interest certainly hadn't waned.

__


	18. Letters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus thinks on the past as things begin to fall into place.

Severus swallowed the bitter antidote - that, frankly, was mostly Laceflies and pomegranate juice - and wondered irritably how long it would take to purge Atalanta's potion from his system. He had never actually been given an Influencer Draught before, partly because it was as simple as its name. Hardly anybody would try and tempt a known Potions Master with it. 

_But you are dealing with a madwoman,_ he chided himself. _On whom you have very little information, other than that she appears far more intelligent than anyone has guessed._

He scowled as he recalled the irresistible quality of the potion, how it had masqueraded as a beautifully brewed cup of tea and tasted like honey. Once he had tested his system for different ingredients, it had not only become apparent that he had been given an insultingly weak potion, but that it should have tasted and looked like liquid dirt. Atalanta was clearly not much of a brewer, but if all of his assumptions were correct, she had an inclination to innovation he had only ever really attributed to himself. Being able to manipulate the house was one thing, but to be able to modify potions when she was clearly of a sub-standard skill was remarkable. 

He contemplated idly that Idina worked in experimental spells. Perhaps it was a talent that ran in the family. He mused on her family tree for a moment; it was clearly fraught with pain and bloodshed, pain that had managed to translate itself into the present, but that was hardly entirely separate from his own upbringing. Severus could not remember a time in which he hadn't wanted a _proper_ family. When he was a younger child, before he went to Hogwarts, a proper family looked in his mind's eye like the Evanses, or an even more well-to-do family that lived round the corner from them with the name Halls-Robinson. In his dream world, the house was large, with a colourful and cared-for garden, the parents were loving, the mother baked, and the clothes were clean and pretty. He remembered Lily complaining about the prim dresses her mother bought her and Petunia (unlike her sister, she preferred more current trends) but Severus always imagined himself at the height of propriety. Perhaps in a blazer. And he was never the bitter, untalented sibling in these fantasies either; he was the Lily. 

But after a year or so in Slytherin, his view had shifted, and he begun to imagine himself as a Malfoy or a Greengrass, or - and these dreams hurt most of all - dream that his mother had not betrayed the name of Prince, that she had married a man from a well-respected Wizarding family. That Severus had been born into a birthright of genuine standing, political influence, powerful magical artefacts. In the Slytherin common room, he used to sit on his bed with his face in a book - by that time people knew that when reading, he preferred to be alone - and imagine what _he_ could have been if he was born in the place of an idiot unworthy of their position, like Crabbe or Goyle or that lunatic Xenophilius Lovegood.

It was a child's dream now. He would do much better to focus on creating a standing for himself in the present, as he should have been doing then.

He stalked across his bookshelf until he found the book he wanted. It was colourful and worn - a third-year Christmas gift from Alecto Carrow, entitled _Easy Potions for Nefarious Uses._ He had resented the title, but pored over the book. It had been the beginning of a trade with the upper years - he provided useful potions without asking questions, with the simple price of being left alone - and it had been rather successful. Some of them had even intervened during scenes with the Marauders, had they become by. That really should have been Severus' first clue that what he was doing now was a far better fit for him than Death Eater. 

_That, and general morals,_ he reminded himself, and then he repeated it aloud. Clarissa was stern that he should make a conscious effort to internalise the values he was attempting to embody. Perhaps he was being too harsh on his past self, anyway. Considering who the gift was from, it hadn't been given with the intent of steering him into a prosperous and legal career. And, whilst he wasn't insulted or attacked by other Slytherins anymore, it was what invited people to start paying attention to him in a different way. It was what had convinced Nott that he had "potential." 

He flicked through the pages irritably, stopping on the Influencer Draught. Perhaps it would say that a particularly irritating side-effect of the potion was melancholy over the past.

It didn't - which worryingly suggested that Severus was becoming sentimental - but it did say that it could take at least three hours to be purged from the system depending on the skill of the brewer. He glared, even though he had expected that with the use of Flobberworms. 'Skill.' If Atalanta genuinely was skilful, she would have given him something else, but he _had_ been received the book aged fourteen. Merlin knew what 'skill' meant in that context.

Severus supposed that he could make use of the three hours, as he still needed some letters to continue working. The thought chafed, but he would have to accept the reality of relying on other people. This would give him a break.

He returned the book and decided on making himself a cup of genuine tea. There was a nagging urge to visit Idina, but, he reminded himself, he had just spent the night there. It was a new relationship. Idina had had a poor marriage; Severus had had a poor life; and they were both undergoing plenty of stress. Besides, he had come to see that she was not as composed as she had first seemed. It wouldn't do to push it. 

_You just don't want to see her._

Severus summoned the milk, forcing himself, as Clarissa had insisted, to rationally confront thoughts that his mind gave them. It _was_ true that he didn't want to see Idina, because he didn't want to have to tell her that he was investigating her hated younger sister. But that hardly took away from his first point - he should give her space. 

He smiled thinly. He didn't suppose that Clarissa had accounted for Severus' ability to over-rationalise when she had suggested that tactic. 

Now with his cup of tea, he resigned himself to composing a short letter of thanks to Echo, alongside a copy of the Muggle studies he had wished to see. He didn't ward the package particularly carefully: his phrasing had been ambiguous, and the study itself would sound like garbled nonsense to most witches and wizards. He had a peaceful half-hour to himself before a pretty tawny owl pecked impatiently at the window. He let her in, taking the letter and giving the obligatory scratch when she hooted in indignance. He didn't recognise the owl, so his assumption would be the Muggleborn Healer Lucius had recommended for Veela at St Mungo's.

He doubted his smile was nice as he opened the envelope and was proven right. He had missed the need for cunning; he could admit that much, if only to himself.

_Dear Mr Snape,_

_I can't tell you how thrilled I am that you have written! You mustn't think that I'll hold your past against you - nor that most people will, over time!_

Severus suppressed a snort as if Lilith was there, even though he was alone. Lucius had not been exaggerating. But that suited his purpose, and her sympathy might even be exploited in order to create an ally, if she proved herself to have any useful qualities other than her occupation.

_I'm a Muggleborn, if you didn't know, and during the war I had to treat all sorts of magical creatures. You'll know that different types of creature allied themselves with different sides; I've healed people that had been brutalised by the Death Eaters, and those that fought with them and cursed me out the whole time. And I was in Hufflepuff at Hogwarts, and the Dark Lord's ideology had the most hold there out of four houses - excluding Slytherin, but I expect you know that. I'd say that there's little about that aspect of prejudice that I haven't seen._

This was interesting. It suggested that her positivity was more to do with a natural inclination to optimism - one that would require resilience to preserve - than it was naivete. That would be easier to work with.

_So if I can come round, anyone can. And I think people will really appreciate that you've devoted yourself to good. It has excited the whole department that we've got someone coming in as important and powerful as you to help with the Veela! (Some are hesitant, but like I said, they'll come round.) They are such a neglected cause in our society; a lot of the time, our patients end up moving to the rest of Europe, where their treatment is better. But some of the poor things stay for ages; family members often pay to keep them in our custody if they can't or won't care for them. A lot of them have long-standing trauma and need constant care and supervision, you see. I'm not sure if you could do anything to fix trauma - if you could, it would be massive, because we could apply it to almost everyone, but I do think that there are things that you can't fix with magic, don't you? Anyway, that seems more of an in-person discussion - just come and look around, drop in whenever - I expect that you can improve whatever potions we're using! - and just your attention will draw the attention of the Wizarding public._

_Lilith Moore_

Severus leaned back in his chair and thought. Lilith Moore was unrefined and not political. At least, not in the Slytherin sense; she clearly had no experience in _that_ arena of silky words and subtle promises. If she did, she wouldn't write letters as someone might speak. That didn't make her _useless,_ however. She essentially qualified as a war hero - not flashy as an Auror like Potter or Black, but that in itself might appeal to the ordinary populace. If she would be willing to talk to a newspaper about Severus' endeavours with Veela, it wouldn't be difficult to push her into a commentary on his character, if the way that her thoughts had spilt onto the page was anything to go by. And if _she_ forgave him, some of the public really might come round as she had professed. He was going to have to build up to engaging with his press at some point - he might as well start thinking now.

He also felt that she was intelligent. She was a Healer, for one thing. But her distracted letter suggested a busy, quick mind. And whilst Slytherins like Lucius Malfoy preferred a well-spoken idiot to a babbling genius, Severus had a soft spot for the clever. Yes; Lilith Moore would receive an appreciative, pleasant letter in return, and not just because she was his key to Atalanta. Considering the mannerisms of her portrait, long-standing trauma seemed extremely likely. Perhaps Idina was paying to keep her in St Mungo's custody as Lilith had mentioned. 

_Well,_ he mused, flourishing his quill, _soon there will be no need for "perhaps". There will be certainty._


	19. Conflict

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A session with Clarissa pushes Severus to reconsider his course of action.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry that this is late! What with Christmas I didn't plan my time properly. I hope to update earlier next time to make up for it!

Severus moved with more than usual irritation to his appointment with Clarissa. He would have liked to go immediately to St Mungo's and quell his curiosity about Atalanta. Unfortunately, however, his "rehabilitation" was a condition of his sentence. Whilst he was sure the Ministry didn't care about his personal wellbeing, they wanted to keep tabs on his mental state, if only for their own safety. And that meant a Mind Healer.

He smiled thinly. Even with his new appreciation of the horrific nature of his choices, he thought they were overestimating his loyalty to the Dark Lord. But then, he supposed it was strange as Lily had said, now. After Idina had made him see what he was before, his new skin felt uncomfortable and hot. Despite his lack of inclination to going on a killing spree in the name of blood purity, it was probably a good thing that he had someone helping him adjust.

He sat on the chair - a pale green in contrast with the white of the room. He wondered, as he did every session, if Clarissa had chosen it to draw on his House loyalty. Perhaps she had even been a Slytherin herself. Such personal questions weren't answered, however. Clarissa preferred to remain an unknown entity.

"Severus," she greeted neutrally. "I thought we could discuss relationships this morning."

He arched an eyebrow. Most of his sessions had involved tedious and uncomfortable exercises to try and enforce morality on him. They involved observing old memories and talking through the ethics of the situation. Whilst Idina had been of great help, Severus could observe the ingenuity of Clarissa's strategy: to slowly grind away his old self, like stone on stone, until all of his old actions and beliefs had been analysed into dust. She didn't want him to come to an epiphany so much as she wanted to take him on a very emotionally draining journey, perhaps because epiphanies had the tendency to wear off. Severus wondered if Idina forcing him to confront himself would have been so effective without Clarissa reinforcing it weekly. Probably not. 

He refocused on the present to see Clarissa staring serenely. Of course; she wouldn't make it so easy as to just interpret his gesture. She preferred his thoughts to be verablised out loud. He cleared his throat. "I'm curious as to the shift in topic."

"Rumour has it that you're getting rather serious with your partner," said Clarissa. He scowled; she raised her own eyebrow. 

"Is that an uncomfortable suggestion?"

"I am not afraid of commitment," said Severus swiftly. He had developed a talent for seeing where she was going. "I was responding to the fact that there is apparently so much gossip around my private life that my Mind Healer does not even need me to update her on current events during my sessions."

Clarissa nodded. "This amount of press intrusion is doubtlessly troubling. How do you cope?"

"I am ignoring it," he said stiffly, carrying on before she could say anything. "You remember our session after my home was invaded. Afterwards, I sought out some wards that effectively deflect all post and most news. I am firmly detached from the political scene."

"And do you think that is a _sustainable_ way of life?"

"Of course not," he said, so coldly that she raised her eyebrows again. "I have just had a lot to deal with. When I do decide to engage with the press, I will of course require your help. What did you want to discuss about Idina?"

Clarissa accepted the dodge, perhaps because she had wanted to discuss Idina anyway. "Your last - and only - long-term relationship was with Regulus Black, am I correct?"

Severus went very still in his chair. Their most emotional session to date had consisted of her prying out details about Regulus, but that had been a result of viewing a memory containing him and she had not attacked the issue head on. This would be a fiercer battle. He straightened his posture. 

"Indeed."

"The circumstances of that relationship were not healthy," she said. "That isn't a point of blame," she said hastily, as Severus opened his mouth in indignance, "considering your environment. But as you are now in a civil environment, and as part of society, you cannot replicate norms in that relationship in your one with Idina. That will create an unhealthy dynamic with her."

Severus considered. He had never thought on that before, but she was right in saying that he had only had one long-term relationship and it had been an unconventional one. He was hardly an expert. "May I have examples?"

"Of course," said Clarissa, who sounded a little relieved that he had taken this revelation so easily. "For one thing, you need to work at creating an emotional bond with Idina. You and Regulus were forced close together. You frequently experienced torture in one another's presence. You were both paranoid and afraid, and he was directly dependent on you for safety and guidance. You and Idina have none of those external factors."

Severus thought about raising Herpo as an external factor with many of those effects, but decided not to. That was Idina's secret, and one he couldn't yet predict the consequences of revealing - even to Clarissa, whom he had come to trust a little.

"That is good for your mental health in general, of course, but that means that you may underestimate the work ethic required to create a meaningful long-term relationship in normal life. You need to make time for Idina, consult her about important decisions, and learn about her as a person in a way you never had to consciously do with Regulus. I would like you to try and keep track of how much time you spend with her to ensure that you are not neglecting the relationship."

Severus nodded shortly. He could appreciate the point about making time. "But when it comes to consulting her about important decisions-" Clarissa smiled widely, and he stopped immediately. He hated reacting as she expected. _"What?"_

"I thought that that was what you would take issue with."

"Please do explain," he said, in acidic tones. 

"It comes back to the issue of Regulus being reliant on you," she responded, much more calmly. His eye twitched. "You made important decisions for him all the time. You made him take potions when he didn't want them because you knew it would damage his health if he didn't. You were often deceptive-"

"I was not _deceptive."_

"You didn't do things that you didn't tell him about? What about the way you 'convinced' other Death Eaters to leave him alone?"

"That was for his own good."

"I agree with you that most of the things you hid from him would have damaged him to know," said Clarissa quietly. "I am not necessarily condemning you for your actions then, Severus. Your treatment of Regulus was perhaps the only morally admirable thing you did. And you were in a difficult position, acting as a carer as well as a lover, because he was almost helpless in that environment. But you _cannot_ treat Idina the same way."

Severus glared.

"I'm aware that this may seem a scolding for something that hasn't happened yet," she continued. _Little do you know,_ thought Severus bitterly. "But it is important to keep in mind. Now." She smiled. "Gossip is hardly credulous, so I would like to hear what _actually_ happened the night you spent together."

He put the previous conversation away and began the tale.

_"Incendio."_

The fourth draft of his letter to Idina crumbled to ash. He sighed, and then scribbled out a basic invitation for her to come to his. It would probably be nicer to have the conversation in Idina's house, but he didn't want any paintings to overhear. Besides, it would be rude to invite himself over.

She appeared more quickly than he had expected, Megaera making a noise of discontent when the bright fire of the Floo disappeared. Idina conjured a floating bluebell flame and set her on the floor, where she began determinedly crawling after it, seemingly not catching on that it had been charmed to dart away whenever she got dangerously close.

"Severus," she said warmly, and she embraced him. The way she lingered made Severus think that she had perhaps missed his company. "She should be fine to crawl, shouldn't she?"

"As long as she doesn't enter the lab. A drink?"

"If you could." 

Once they were settled, Severus cleared his throat. "I have something to confess."

Idina clasped her hands and looked at him intently. She _had_ missed him, which made him feel even more guilty than Clarissa had done. "What is it?"

"Atalanta - or at least, I believe it to be Atalanta - has been covertly encouraging me to meet her at St Mungo's," he said abruptly. "I have arranged to meet a Healer who cares for Veela so that we might speak to one another. I thought that I should not hide this from you."

"You thought right," said Idina, and her voice was so cold that his spine stiffened a little. "Covertly encouraging you? How do you mean? And how did you come to understand she was being housed at St Mungo's?"

Severus swallowed, and then explained the beetles, the potion and his conversation with her portrait. Idina sipped her tea. The flat seemed stuck in silence, only Megaera's squeaks of glee and frustration to be heard. Then,

"You are probably right that it is her encouraging you."

"You are not upset?"

"More with her than you," said Idina crisply. 

Severus raised his eyebrows.

"I will be _more_ upset," said Idina, "should you begin defending her actions to me. I know my half-sister and I judge her accordingly. Besides, you were influenced by a potion, so it is foolish to hold you responsible."

"I had already acted against your wishes before that."

"I know of her effect on men, too," said Idina icily. "And appropriate spells should you wish to displace it."

"I am not particularly sensitive to Veela," said Severus shortly. "If I defend her, know that I do it in all clarity."

"And in all ignorance," she said impatiently. "You know nothing of her."

"I am aware of that," said Severus pointedly. The reminder that his lack of knowledge was due to Idina hung in the air.

She sighed and put down her cup. "You are not distressed that I have not told you yet?"

"I am more surprised that you are not rushing to tell me now that you know I might hear Atalanta's side of the story first."

Idina laughed somewhat derisively. "We can tell you together. I don't think she has the ability to piece a convincing side together at all, let alone one that will hold up against the truth."

Severus remained quiet on that matter. He thought any disagreement might be interpreted as a defence, which was clearly something she felt sensitive about. And she would be enlightened on Atalanta's mental capability once they had answers on how she had sent the potion.

"Tell you together? Wo you do not want me to discontinue my correspondence with Lilith Moore?"

"No," said Idina composedly. "It seems that we both need to converse with Atalanta. And this could be very good publicity if I'm there to spin it properly."

They locked eyes, and then they smiled. Idina began a discussion about her new client, a foreign wizard who wanted a spell so strange that she had almost gotten the giggles during their meeting. Severus was aware that the conflict had dissolved so quickly because of Idina's hatred of her sister, but he could not bring himself to bring it up again. Not when he had this. 

Another cup of tea later, Megaera had out her Magical Creature cards again (she got _NUNDU_ right this time) and Severus and Idina had returned to their favourite debate on the regulations surrounding Experimental Breeding. They both blinked at the sound of a knock.

"Were you expecting visitors?" Idina asked.

"No," said Severus. They both drew their wands as he approached the door. "Is someone there?" he called. 

"Yes, me!" Green eyes peered through his window. "Is it a bad time, Sev? I brought Harry."


	20. Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lily's visit leads Severus to contemplate James, and Idina to think on her past.

"Who is it?" asked Idina, hand around her wand. "If they try and force themselves in, the wards-"

"It should not come to that," said Severus. "It is Lily."

Idina sniffed. "And what, you think she is intelligent enough to remember what happened to her friend?"

"I don't think she's the type for breaking and entering," Severus drawled. Idina's face remained stony. "I think she learnt from what happened to Black, yes," he confirmed, rolling his eyes. "Do you object to her being invited in?"

"Sev?" Lily called through the door. "Are you not in?" He heard her rustling in her bag. "Maybe I should leave a note. A note would be nice, wouldn't it, Harry?"

"She's accepted but not welcome," said Idina curtly, sweeping back into the living room. Severus wondered if he was inviting trouble by letting Lily in, but he supposed that they had to meet again some time. And he had expected some tension between the two of them, since the circumstances of their first meeting had been so confrontational.

He opened the door. "Lily." Harry giggled and reached for his hair. He stood back in irritation; the interaction stretched Lily's smile wider. "My apologies for making you wait at the doorstep. We were wrapped up in our discussion."

"We?" Lily's eyes sparked. "Is Idina here?"

"Yes," he said. "Does your excitement stem from joy to connect with her, or preparation for a disagreement?"

"Both," she said primly. "I am sorry for disturbing you two, though - I _am,_ don't look at me like that! - I suppose I should have owled. I just thought I'd pop in. What should I do with Harry?"

"He can crawl with Megaera. Idina's baby," he added. Lily nodded, but as he turned into the room, he heard her repeat _"Megaera!"_ in a posh voice to baby Harry. He shook his head as they entered.

"You must remind me of your name," said Idina, in a tone that one might consider warm a room away. She stood to greet Lily, but other than that her body language was closed, straight posture and folded arms.

"Lily Potter," Lily said, with the cold brightness of a February morning. "I know that you're Idina. And Sev said that _this_ little darling is yours." She dropped to her knees to let Harry down and cooed a little at Megaera in the process. (She accepted Lily's air kisses without fussing, which was somewhat remarkable for the grouchy toddler, but looked suspiciously at Harry despite his happily nonsensical greeting.)

"Do you want anything to eat or drink, Lily?"

"Tea would be lovely, thank you," Lily said. She cast an eye around the flat, noting, Severus assumed, the grease of poverty in a way she wouldn't have in her younger years. When he returned with tea and a paltry plate of biscuits, she asked, "how's the job going, Sev?"

"As you'd expect, meagre pay," he said dryly. He didn't tell her about his new arrangement with Miss Chantelle; Lily, he was sure, would violently disapprove of 'charitable donations.' "But it is what I enjoy, and obviously preferable to Azkaban."

"It's good for you to have some stability," said Lily softly, sliding into blunt, Gryffindor-like earnestness in a way he had almost forgotten she often did. Idina flicked her hair back like an angry stallion at the sudden emotional nature of the conversation. "And some people to _talk_ to, as well. Your co-worker won't stop singing your praises. She nearly scalped James." 

"So I heard," said Severus. It suddenly felt like his living room floor had turned to ice. "How is - Black?" He had wanted to ask after James, but his name tasted odd in his mouth, and it made more sense to ask about the mutt anyway. He was the one that had been injured, after all.

"Recovered and back on duty," said Lily. "He's spitting angry, though, Sev, I do worry -" Her eyes flicked to Idina. "I mean, I _would_ worry. Was it you who gave Severus the spell for the wards?" 

"Indeed," said Idina, so politely that Severus expected Lily to wince. She didn't, of course.

"It's a wonderful piece of magic. How did you come across it?"

"The spell is of my own invention."

"You're suited to Sev in that way, then," said Lily. "But of course, James did say-" She swallowed as if only just remembering how his name had gone down the first time.

"Said what?" asked Idina crisply.

Lily cleared her throat. "He said that that was the area in which you worked."

"Done their research, have they?"

"You can imagine-" Lily began, only to be suddenly cut off by fireworks at her feet. Megaera had put two correct cards together. Harry crawled forward in wonder, clearly determined to make it happen again, but only succeeded in engulfing himself in the foul-smelling smoke.

"My apologies," said Idina, in the least apologetic tone possible.

"It won't hurt him," said Lily, who had cast a diagnostic spell on the smoke and then relaxed. "He'll have to hope for better luck next time, won't you, sweetheart?" Harry giggled back, apparently already over his ordeal. Severus wondered if he was good-tempered or just had a mind more goldfish than wizard. 

"Hopefully, he might actually learn something about the magical creatures," was all he said aloud. Lily leaned forward in surprise to look more closely at the cards.

"Oh, that's clever! You know, we were talking the other day about teaching him, but-" She stopped again. "I'm sorry. I know you don't want to talk about James.

"You can talk about your husband, Lily," said Severus. "I won't storm out in outrage." It was difficult, it was true, but Lily _had_ married Potter and they appeared to be happy. They had a child, and Severus knew that that would tie Lily even more closely to the marriage than before. If he was to be friends with her, he would have to become desensitised to their relationship, and he was determined to make it as little of an issue as possible.

"I know it must have been difficult news for you," said Lily, voice gentle again. 

"It wasn't happily received, no." He had a sudden panic that the topic might make him emotional, but the confrontation had led him to a sense of floating (albeit uneasy) detachment from his own mind. Severus had heard the news from Narcissa before a raid, and shoved it so deeply beneath his Occlumency shields that he thought it had become more of a wound to the soul than an emotion. The thought of the Dark Lord coming across that particular sensitivity and using it as a taunt had been too much to bear. Regulus had helped him leave behind the memory of Lily as a romance, but he wasn't even sure if that had helped. He had placed those feelings out of reach for even himself; poured it like poison into his ear, enclosed it inside his ribcage, and now he had no clue how to understand them.

"It must seem like he hasn't changed a bit," Lily continued. He heard Idina make a noise of amused disbelief. 

"Do you think he has?" Severus left his tone light, but Lily must have sensed the implications, because her shoulders tensed.

"Yes. Honestly. He hates you for - different, reasons, now. Although I think the more time he spends with Sirius, the easier it is to justify his behaviour at school. They talk themselves round, you know. They mix up who they were then and who they are now, and who you were then and - well, you know. Who you were more recently." Lily licked her lips nervously. "I suppose it comes across the same. But I wouldn't have married him if he hadn't grown at all, Sev. You know that."

Megaera smacked Harry on the hand, which thankfully gave Severus time to think on her words. (It appeared that he had been about to match incorrect cards.) As Idina and Lily cooed and laughed over her showing him which cards matched - "she's _very_ clever, isn't she?" … "I do like to think so" - he wondered whether James Potter _had_ changed. His immediate reaction was a violent rejection, but he pushed through that like he would swim through dirty water. Much of his life had been talking himself into unpleasantness, after all.

It was true that Potter did have new reasons to dislike him, now. Severus had actually been a Death Eater. He had been responsible for the deaths of witches and wizards that Potter had worked with. He had aligned himself with the Pureblood bigotry that Potter never seemed sensitive to, not even at school, which Severus had always attributed to upbringing. Clarence Greengrass had called Fleamont Potter _progressive._ She had somehow made the word sound like it tasted poorly.

It was indeed possible that Potter had grown up and now hated him for things that were reasonable. And, unlike Lily, he had no motive to attempt to understand or reconcile with him, so it made sense that he would hate him still. But what did that change?

_Very little._

Potter remained an enemy. If some things _had_ changed, his recent behaviour demonstrated that his stubbornness and hotheadedness had not been among the developed characteristics. He could not be won round. Besides, Severus knew that he would undoubtedly drown in the filthy ocean that should surround him were he try to _befriend_ Potter.

He smiled grimly, and determinedly re-entered the conversation. Idina and Lily were talking to one another - in distinctly nicer tones, though he doubted either of them had noticed that yet - about education. Lily was listening eagerly to Idina's descriptions of magical schools besides Hogwarts (apparently, she had not yet decided on one for Megaera.) These thoughts were the discussion for now; Potter - and by extension, Black - would be thought about later.

"Durmstrang's reputation is not _entirely_ unearned, however," he said, and confessed some details on the newly appointed headmaster Igor that made Lily gasp in outrage.

"Well?" he asked, when Lily had gone.

"She would be more palatable without her husband," said Idina stiffly. Severus hid his smile; all things considered, that was high praise. "It is a source of tension between the two of you."

"I have been thinking on him."

"Oh?"

"I am not convinced that he has given up on pursuing me because he is scared of you."

Idina stilled.

"Idina?"

"He hasn't," she said calmly, meeting his eyes. Hers were very still and very glossy, like black pools. "But they were correct in assuming that you would not have to worry about that, Severus. I shall deal with them and you shall focus your energy on things that are less emotionally taxing for you."

"They were under the impression that you had murdered Peter Pettigrew. Are those your preferred methods?"

"The preferred methods of my father," she said delicately. "I did some of my own research. It is likely that Sirius Black would know of him most of all."

"How so?"

Idina stilled again, looking for a moment more portrait than woman, and then she folded her hands over her lap. "I think it is time for me to be transparent with you. If only so we can approach the issues being presented by Messrs Potter and Black."


	21. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Idina discusses her past with Severus, and he makes a promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> References to: domestic abuse, psychological and physical torture, implied rape, bigotry, sexual infidelity, gory images. 
> 
> Quite a lot of information as well as heavy themes: read carefully!

Idina was doing her impersonation of a statue again; eyes wide and glassy, right hand folded over her left. "I ask that you do not interrupt me as I speak; I will be happy to answer queries at the end. But as I am going, it will be - difficult. I have never explained my history in its entirety to another person before and the snapshots I told …" She gestured uselessly. "They were infrequent, and isolated." 

"May I ask a question now?" said Severus serenely. She cast him a half-amused, half-angry glance.

"You are _unrepentant."_

"Hardly," said Severus dryly. "That's the point, after all."

She huffed in exasperation. "Very well, Severus. What is your question?"

"To whom have you told this before?"

She put the left hand over the right one instead. "Megaera's father." Severus arched an eyebrow. "Mother would have opinions about my weakness when it comes to men, I am sure. She was like that about many things. A very cold woman. And not much else, really. I never thought her particularly intelligent or charming or driven or beautiful. Just - cold.

"My father was not the sort of man that minded about his wife's character, as long as she was quiet, and my mother was that. She came from an old, pureblood family, from East Germany. Britain has been dragged into progression, unlikely as that may seem, by figures such as Dumbledore, but other places are far more conservative, far more steeped in what they call tradition. Both my parents were of such places. And so the only thing my father found important in women was beauty. That was - unaligned - to the views of my ancestors. We have always been a people focused on _power._ Herpo was cruel to women as to men. It is one of many ways I have felt my father unsatisfactory. He was judged by many portraits as unsatisfactory too. But …" she gestured again. "You will forgive me. I am talking in circles."

"Start at the beginning," Severus suggested gently. "Tell me more of your mother and father's relationship when you were a child."

"It was not that," said Idina sharply. "Never - a relationship. It was cold as her, and cruel as him. As I said, he was mostly focused on beauty, but she had that not. It is common practice for men to use …" - her mouth twisted - "_Veela_ for matters of - attraction. He kept one in the garden, where she was mostly a bird. When he left for outside, he'd whistle, and I'd see the form of a woman with bright, golden hair. She never sounded as if she enjoyed it; but then, I had no-one to compare it to, for after I was born he was disinterested in my mother. Many rites and tests are put on the heir to the family during childhood. I passed them, so it was not his place to look for another heir. My mother died when I was twelve. I do not think she recovered from the humiliation of Atalanta being born. Or perhaps he removed her.

"After that, my father began to go mad. I told you that the portraits judged him unsatisfactory, and that is a dangerous thing. They made him see visions and feel strange and sudden bouts of pain. I do not know what the visions were, but he shrieked like a man burnt during, and they mentally destroyed him. He barely ate, for the vast majority of his meals turned to worms when he touched them. If I offered him food, it would rot. Many times he accused me of being in on the conspiracy and attacked me. He never killed, but he used dark spells - on some occasions, the Cruciatus curse. The portraits did not wish to intervene as long as he did not come near to ending my life, or breaking my mind as Atalanta's did. For all I know, nothing specific happened to her, but she was very sensitive and it was not a happy household. She depended on my father for comfort, and he willingly gave it to her, because she was, of course, a pretty child, and always chatty and giggly. He was so mad he could not notice her madness. So they got on, and I did not. He did not use magic against her until his final days, when he barely recognised anybody. Still, before he died, he said _'Atalanta, my hunter'_ even as he gave me Herpo's locket. She was his heir, even if I was the portrait's. She was welcome to him. He was an unworthy, horrific man, that I mostly hid from and - like all those the portraits deem unsuited to the position they were gifted - his body sank into black bones thirteen seconds after he died. That year I was fifteen, and I became head of the family.

"I fought many a distant cousin and uncle over rights to that role. They said I was young, inexperienced, and a woman. They were idiots who did not understand our family name. If they had, they would never have attempted to go against the will of the portraits. They all died, as could be expected, and had black bones. I was not surprised by that point. I knew of the ways of my family. And so I assumed control. I gained understanding of our funds - they were many, of course - and looked into a place to house Atalanta. There are no places for Veela in my home country except the Veela communities, which of course I would not send her to. She is part us, after all. So I sent her to England - St Mungo's, as you know - where they have cared for her since. The fees were draining but I wanted her gone. I waited until I was eighteen to buy a cheap house here, and changed my name, for I was sure that people would challenge my status as head of family otherwise, and England would not have responded well to blackened bones. Much like you, I once feared the wrath of Dumbledore.

"I devoted myself to study. Herpo himself oversaw much of my tutelage, but his was more in ways of cruelty and deception. More recent portraits oversaw my general understanding, whilst the older ones taught me spells and potions that have been long forgotten. I quickly learnt that I had inherited his talent for spell creation and used that to rebuild my family's fortune. I would not suffer the indignity of selling our priceless artefacts. I live underneath the portraits, as is expected, but they are happy with my work. I grow more influential over Britain's magical community by the day, and I am rich and powerful. I continue to command respect. But they presume -" She breathed out. "They presume that I will one day abandon the name Idina Brass, pay due homage to my ancestors, and rule England in a terror that your Voldemort did not dream of." She looked him in the eye. "Is this too much, Severus? Speak honestly."

"I could not claim you were too much without displaying a hypocrisy hideous in its openness," said Severus. And then, "I am sorry."

"Do not apologise for sins so aged, especially when they do not belong. Do you have questions?"

Severus forced himself to push back emotions and focus on questions for now. He agreed that Idina should remain in the mindset of openness until time came for her to break. "Despite your false name, Black knew who you were immediately. Is this a worry?"

"I consider it far more real than anything," said Idina. "It is the name I built myself with. But nobody would recognise the truth without recognising my power." She smiled grimly. "I assume his jump to murder meant that he was familiar with my father, and not I. He did not deal with enemies subtly."

"And you?" 

"Connections," said Idina swiftly. "Threats. And knowledge. Miss Chantelle's spiderweb is nothing more than the wings of a fly, if a particularly nourishing one. Their dear Peter Pettigrew certainly did not have the heart of a lion. It was not difficult to push him to flee."

Severus tried to feel sympathetic, and found that he could not. "Will he return?"

"I am not sure," said Idina carelessly. "I am having people keep watch - he has no true loyalty; at least, he has not courage enough to have a true loyalty. So he is not very predictable. Hopefully I gave him enough of a fright."

Severus nodded. "And the - madness that the portraits inflicted your father with? How was that done if they cannot transcend their portraits?"

Idina rolled her shoulders back. "I believe that it is some form of curse," she said slowly. "Herpo has never allowed me to study it. I do not know if it was his invention or that of a more recent ancestor, but he appreciates the control it gives him and the rest of the portraits to dictate the family's future beyond life."

"Alongside the locket? The dog with the snake tongue - do you know anything of that?"

"I believe it is called a Horcrux." Severus' spine stiffened. "Do you know of it?"

"It was the kind of Dark Magic I consumed like pornography in my teenage years," he said sharply. "Never to be spoken of, and too steeped in guilt to be enjoyed."

She smiled a little wetly. "I did not suppose that you had a limit."

"My limit is when magic begins to kill the self."

"And what of a woman?" said Idina softly. "What of a woman with enough baggage to kill your personhood?"

Severus smiled wryly. "I believe that the old fool Dumbledore may be right, and people and power are different after all. I will offer my assistance."

She looked startled, but he could see wonder beginning to break on her face, like dawn. "In what?" she asked softly, and her voice bent on the inflection like wet wood.

"In putting Black and Potter's attacks on you to rest, which you may consider a personal pleasure on my part. And then, on rendering you free to live as Idina Brass for as long as you wish."

She sat back as the statue again, but her eyes were gleaming, alive, and lips beginning to form an uncertain but definite smile. "Is that so, Severus Snape?"

"It is," he said, and he grinned back. It was his predator's grin.


	22. Riddles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus meets Atalanta in person.

Severus woke up in his bed to the irritable screeches of an owl. He glowered at the creature, but to pass through the wards, the letter had to be welcome to either him or Idina, so probably fairly important. Neither of them were in habit of welcoming acquaintances or enemies into their homes, even in paper form. Once his eyes had accustomed to the light, he recognised the bird as Echo's.

Idina groaned as he stretched over to reach the letter. The owl, pragmatic as his owner, promptly left. "Who is that from?"

"Echo. More information on my test subjects, I assume."

Idina pinched her eyes at the letter. "And they are all trustworthy?"

"I imagine that to pass his thorough examinations, they would have to be." 

She rolled back her shoulders and slumped against the bed, which had had to be magically enlarged to fit the two of them. Severus wondered if the Ministry would allow him to move out of his current residence. They _surely_ couldn't complain if he were to buy a new bed. "Probably," Idina said weakly, pulling him out of his dreams of home renovation. "It is far too early for this sort of talk." She stretched again, her tilted head making her look rather like a swan, and smiled at Severus. "Last night was lovely. I should like to linger in bed, but I think I can hear Megaera."

An angry noise from the neighbouring room confirmed her suspicions. Idina hadn't wanted to go back to hers (which Severus thought had much to do with the portraits) but wouldn't think of leaving Megaera, even with Minnie. Idina clicked her tongue affectionately and made to rise.

"You shower whilst I feed her. I want this visit of Atalanta out of the way. I still do not believe it necessary."

Severus avoided saying that he had made a promise. Idina valued keeping your word, but not when it came to her sister, and he was quite sure that if he did say it, she would snap that when under the influence of a potion, one couldn't agree to anything anyway. He was certain he would have made the promise regardless - there was something about Atalanta's pathetic insanity that made her sympathetic to him - but he was sure that would result in Idina's steaming rage and a row both of them were altogether too fragile for. So instead he said mildly, "you said she was closer to your father than you. She may have more understanding of the curse, and we cannot free you from your destiny as a Dark Lady before breaking that."

"Even if she does know something, I doubt she will be coherent."

"She managed to convey messages to me," Severus pointed out. That (as he had hoped) sent her into brooding on how Atalanta had secretly contacted Severus; if she would accompany him through anger, so be it. He doubted he would be allowed to see Atalanta on his own, and he was sure she was key to this puzzle, even if Idina disliked her. Furthermore, he had questions about the potion she had given him, and how she had managed to make it seem irresistible. 

When he came out from the shower, Idina was coaxing a very stubborn-looking daughter into eating. 

"Sev-wush," said Megaera firmly, as if his presence was a reason to deny food.

"Indeed," Idina said, voice just as severe, "and he wants you to get your nutrients and not have bones like a wet broomstick."

"Why don't you do the _here comes the broomstick_ game?" asked Severus dryly. "Isn't that how people get toddlers to eat?"

Idina sniffed. "It would probably offend Megaera, and with good reason. Can you try and get her to finish whilst I wash?" 

Severus blinked. "I'm not sure-"

"Of course you are," she said briskly, rising from the table. Severus resigned himself to feeding a toddler, levitating the spoon with his wand and levelling it at her. She pouted determinedly back. 

"Food?" he asked.

"No," she said emphatically. 

Severus sighed, and then flicked his wand to make the spoon vibrate with a sound like a horn. "Here comes the Knight Bus," he said, in the most enthusiastic voice he could muster (he was never very fond of broomsticks.) Megaera giggled and consented to the mouthful of food.

He smiled to himself. However haughty her mother was, she was still two years old.

By the time Idina returned, Megaera had eaten most of her food, although she easily became unimpressed and demanded more complex illusions each time. The spoon was now purple, and swung in between a combination of lampposts and Muggle cars before making its way to her mouth. Idina arched her eyebrows.

"Your daughter isn't quite as civilised as you thought," Severus explained dryly. 

"The _Knight Bus,"_ said Idina, shuddering delicately. "You could at least have given her a broomstick."

"I don't like Quidditch."

"Neither do I, but it is at least respectable." Severus had plenty of opinions on _that,_ but he thought that the earlier they went, the less difficult Idina would be about visiting her sister. She had proved only more resistant to the idea with time. 

"Should we take Megaera's to yours? I imagine you don't want her to see Atalanta."

"Of course not," said Idina sharply. "But now we are working against the portraits, even if nothing official is in motion, I will not leave Megaera there without me, even with a house elf. Minnie!"

Minnie appeared with an abrupt pop. "Yes, Miss Idina, Mister Severus?"

"Watch Megaera until me and Severus return, in this room," said Idina crisply. "If we are not back by lunch, feed her."

As Minnie vowed to take care of 'Little Miss Megaera' as her own child, Severus wondered if she had thoughts about her mistress and her orders outside of pure loyalty.

They were greeted at St Mungo's by a blonde man with a sullen face who had evidently been told to expect them, but was not happy about it. He scowled at Severus, dropping his hand barely a second after shaking it.

"If this is about the work you want to do with the department, you can wait for _her_ to come back. She doesn't work today."

"Luckily, it isn't," said Idina, her voice so frosty that it made him sit up a little straighter. "I would like to be shown to my sister's room."

"Same place as it always is," he said, still glowering at Severus. She sniffed and turned on her heel.

"Who is that?" he asked in undertones, as they walked down the hallway. It was painted with beautiful images of flowers and wildlife, but had an eerie atmosphere, and Severus thought there was something sinister about the little numbered doors. They were all coloured: pink, lilac, green, blue. 

"Robert Huckney. A worker here." She turned left.

"Do you visit Atalanta often?"

"I do on Christmas Eve."

The door was orange, number nineteen, and surrounded by a series of painted, sleek black horses that Severus thought moved whenever he turned his head. He raised his hand to knock, but Idina marched straight in. 

"Atalanta," she said coldly. 

Atalanta looked up. Her portrait was an excellent likeness, although she was somehow more attractive in reality. Severus wondered if her features hadn't been captured in full beauty - if that were even possible - or if the Veela allure was just stronger in person. He thought perhaps a combination of both. Instead of a minidress, though, she wore an absurd blue gown with orange tassels hanging off the sleeves. It was patterned with lemons, presumably to match a chunky necklace seemingly made of a block of yellow acrylic, and finished with an expensive looking tiara. 

"Is that family jewellery?" Severus asked, wondering if it contained any secrets.

"No, no, no," said Atalanta, looking horrified at the very thought. "There's no family on me." She approached the mirror on the left wall - it was less like the hospital room he had been expecting, and more a bedroom - and looked complacently at her face in the mirror. "No family _in_ me."

"You're the pure likeness of your mother," said Idina, the words dripping with scorn. 

_"Your_ family," said Atalanta, and somehow the words sounded just as scornful. "Severus! You came, you came, you came!"

"You knew I was coming?" asked Severus, raising an eyebrow. Atalanta's words were more coherent and better structured than her portrait's. He wondered when it had been commissioned, and by whom.

"I told me," she said. They both frowned, but she continued talking. "What does _she_ want?"

"To impress upon you that you are not to contact my lover through covert magical means, nor drug him with potions," said Idina coldly. "If the other portraits have reason to believe you are damaging my life as heir, they may view you as a threat." Severus tensed. "Do you understand?"

Atalanta went very still, but mumbled sullenly, "yes Idina", so quietly that it sounded like one word. Idina swept out, giving Severus a look as if to say that he could question her all he liked. Atalanta immediately turned to Severus with wide eyes.

"The portraits are bad," she said firmly. "Very, very bad."

"So has become apparent," Severus said gently. "Idina spoke of your father."

"He's evil," said Atalanta fiercely.

Severus regarded her slowly. "You didn't like your father?"

Atalanta wrapped her arms around herself. "He hurt my mother. And hurt me."

Severus stiffened. "In the same way?"

She nodded. Her eyes had become distant, wild, as if gripped by horrors he could not see, and her lips a tight, circular knot.

"He was - cursed?"

"Not to do that. He did that by himself."

"I - I know. But the curse?"

"Failures are successes," said Atalanta, in a sing-song voice. "But Idina could tell you that. She's Herpo's favourite."

"What do you mean?"

"Herpo failed," she said. "And so will Idina." Her eyes had become more distant than before, so much that they looked adrift. Severus changed the course of discussion.

"You gave me a potion."

"Sorry," she whispered. Her eyes were so wide and voice so quiet he couldn't bring himself to condemn her further, especially with the new suspicions her words had given him.

"It's alright. I simply wanted to know how you made it so inviting to look at." She tilted her head. "I work in potions, you see."

_"Potions,"_ said Atalanta, admiringly. She put her fingers to my lips, and said, in deeply conspiratorial tones, "I used my hair."

"Your hair?" he said, in wonder. _Of course. She is part Veela._

"My mother showed me." Atalanta went to her dressing table and grabbed a pair of scissors. He tensed, but all she did was lop off a chunk of hair. "Here!"

He enclosed it in his fist. "Thank you very much," he said, at last. "Atalanta. Why is it that you wanted to see me?"

She stared emptily.

"Atalanta?"

"Whenever the nurses try to make me better, they tell me to think about what I'll do when I'm not here anymore. But I wouldn't have anyone if I did get better and left. I'd be alone." He wasn't sure if it was a Veela technique or pure emotion, but her eyes seemed to play on his very soul. "I don't want to be lonely."

Severus wrote down Atalanta's words - nonsensical as they were - for Idina, and then retreated into his lab under the pretence of preparing for Echo. He felt strangely lost himself, but he could not understand why. He was sure there had been clues in her words. He was sure there were clues in the differences between her and her portrait.

But as to the other mysteries his mind was working on, he had no idea.


	23. Backslides

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus finds himself in need of help when confronted with a moral dilemma that sends him into a mental spiral.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: discussion of rape/child abuse

Severus looked through the test subjects Echo had offered him. Nobody under the age of five, which was somewhat unhelpful considering that this was being brewed on behalf of a toddler, but then he did suppose it was somewhat unethical to use children as test subjects. Thankfully, he owned some books written by people with no such moral objections. As long as he was able to ensure that none of his ingredients reacted in a particularly especial way with one another, it should be perfectly safe for a small child to ingest.

He added that to his list of things to do and then went back to scrutinising the list. A good range of people; none of them looked particularly dangerous, and all of their faces were far from the gnashing monster he had encountered during his teen years. He dismissed the shiver crawling up his arms. If he was successful in this, he would never have to worry about such a thing again.

Deeming them all suitable, he penned a quick letter to Echo confirming that the suggested time was fine to meet, and then cast his mind back to Atalanta. The mystery of the potion was solved - he let his eyes wander to the glistening strands of hair, but he had decided not to experiment until he was in a clearer state of mind - but she had left plenty more. He stared down at the parchment where he had written the phrases down.

_'I told me.'_ Was her portrait sentient after all?

_'He hurt my mother and he hurt me.'_ In the same way, she had said, he reminded himself, scrawling that next to the words. He had a sickening suspicion as to what that meant.

_'Failures are successes … Herpo failed, and so will Idina.'_ He frowned. _That_ had been said about the curse, so was likely to be the most directly relevant. Naturally, it was the most obscure. If failures were successes, did that mean that Idina would succeed? If that was indeed what she meant, did that mean she would triumph over Herpo, or succeed in some other way? The alignment with Herpo suggested that her success might come in the form of becoming a Dark Lady as the portraits wanted. Was Atalanta suggesting that they give up hope?

He scowled and moved into the living room. Megaera was napping and Idina was sipping at a cup of tea, face pinched and pale.

"Have you had any thoughts on your sister's words?"

Idina's nostrils flared. "Why would I? They are hardly particularly insightful."

"More requiring of insight," said Severus dryly. He was rewarded with a slight smile. "I am not professing your sister to be a genius. It is merely that she might know of something you do not."

Idina sighed. "I know I am being irritable; she makes me so. But you are right. She was closer to my father than I was." Severus winced slightly. She raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"Do you know very much on the nature of that closeness?"

"How do you mean?" 

"Atalanta implied that their relationship was similar to that he had with her mother."

Idina stiffened, and then took another sip, a gesture that she managed to fuse with anger. "I do not think so. My father was-" She paused, and flexed her fingers. "I do not think so."

"Is it possible?"

"She is a liar," said Idina coldly. "One with little loyalty, besides. She adored him."

"From her tone of voice," said Severus steadily, "I would have thought she hated him."

Idina's face contorted. "She always was more like her mother than any witch."

Severus kept his voice as low and neutral as possible. "Did her mother have a choice, either?" 

Idina's shoulders drew back, and then she put her cup down. Her face was pale, and whilst her expression would look smooth to the casual onlooker, he could see the tension between her eyes and about her lips. "This is a ludicrous conversation, based on the obscure words of an insane whore, and I will not entertain it." She stood. "I am going to speak to Chantelle. Will you be happy to look after Megaera, or should I call Minnie?"

"I am happy to," said Severus flatly. He did not look at her as she left.

_Was that the right thing to do?_

Perhaps not the kind thing, Severus decided. He had known it was a sensitive subject for Idina. But she had not gotten involved with him expecting him to be kind. This was a matter of truth.

And, perhaps, a matter of morality. 

Was it acceptable, he mused, to have the suspicions that he did, and go nowhere with them? Was it acceptable to make room for Idina's increasingly irrational hatred towards her sister? 

_Is it fair to yourself,_ said Clarissa's voice, _to curb the moral principles you have only just started developing, and to strategise away any sense of independent thought you have, all to attempt to keep peace in your relationship?_

But then, was he being selfish? It was not a good thing that he was never kind. And he owed more loyalty to Idina than Atalanta.

The coffee he drank only amplified his headache. He felt too distracted to busy himself with any work, but he didn't want to think, either. His thoughts were drowning. Beyond morals, this was an issue of survival. He had entered into a battle to the death with some of the most malicious spirits in Wizarding history, and now Idina was stunting their progress through a sibling rivalry. Had she been a fellow Death Eater, he probably would have eliminated her on the battle field and made it look like an accident. The Dark Lord found petty emotions, and the equally petty actions they produced, amusing. Severus did not.

He shook himself. To be thinking of the Dark Lord and casting himself back into his Death Eater mindset suggested that this moral challenge had thrown him more than it should have.

He made more coffee, so to have something to do, and then drank it. He looked through his shelf to see if he had anything to read. He ran shaky fingers through his limp hair.

And still, he remained utterly nonplussed as to what to do. Morals, he decided, were difficult. 

_They only ever have been for_ you, said the voice snidely, and he resisted the urge to cast a Biting Hex at his own brain. He hadn't heard that particular voice in a while.

_Try reasoning with it,_ said Clarissa. _You're a rational person, aren't you?_ Even in his head, her tone was vaguely mocking on those last words. He scowled involuntarily but, as always, resigned to accepting the advice.

It was true that he had struggled with morality more than most. But he also had had less guidance. The vast majority of the principles his parents had given him were bad. The authority figures he had had were either vapid and unscrupulous, like Slughorn, or people like Lucius Malfoy. 

_And that justifies what you did? You had other people. You could have made other friends, and you had Lily. Until-_

He cut off that line of thought before it began, considering how he might rationalise his way through such an emotional subject, and then he realised.

_I still have Lily,_ he told himself triumphantly. _And there is no reason why improvement cannot start now._

Lily stepped through his Floo in a surprisingly short time, Harry in tow. He squealed in the direction of Megaera's cot.

"Bless her little heart," said Lily, peering at her. "Maybe I should put Harry down for a nap."

He kicked his legs indignantly at the word 'nap', reaching for Severus' hair.

"He's fine to crawl around. Megaera should wake soon anyway." He turned to put on the kettle - tea, this time, he decided. Harry busied himself with a magical mirror that Lily gave him, fascinated by both his own reflection and the frequent bright patterns that appeared along the surface. "I'm sorry to call you at such short notice. I hope you are not inconvenienced."

"James is out today," said Lily. "And you _aren't_ an inconvenience, Sev. Is something the matter? You sounded a little stressed."

"I'm feeling conflicted, is all."

"What's wrong? Is it something with Idina?"

He frowned as he set out the cups. "How did you know?"

"You don't have much else going on except work," she said, so brightly that Severus assumed she didn't mean it cruelly, "and I know you wouldn't be feeling conflicted about _that,_ you've always been an overachiever. What's wrong?"

He put in the sugar carefully. _Idiotically,_ he scolded himself, he hadn't already sorted out what he'd tell her and what he wouldn't. "I went to visit Idina's sister."

"Oh, so it's getting serious?" said Lily delightedly, face coming alight in the way it always did when she heard gossip. "Where does her sister live?"

"St Mungo's," said Severus, pouring in the water, "where she has been since childhood. She is mad. Idina dislikes her. They had a difficult childhood, which is, I think, the reason for her sister's mental state. She insinuated to me that she had been sexually abused by her and Idina's father."

Lily froze, and then the emotions crashed over her face. _Feeling is definitely easier for some than others._ "Oh, _Sev._ Have you told Idina?"

"I have. She is not at all receptive to the idea."

Lily accepted the cup of tea, frown lines marked across her forehead. "It's no wonder you're conflicted. This is difficult. Is Idina close to her dad?"

"She wasn't at all. He was abusive to her also, by her account, although not in that way. But she believes that Atalanta adored him, although that did not at all come across, and that she is lying. I think that her hatred for her sister overpowers that for her father."

Lily frowned. "But that doesn't make sense. Was she there when her sister told you?"

"No."

"And she doesn't believe you?"

"She believes that that is what Atalanta told me," said Severus, "but not that I am correct. Her sister's mother was a Veela. Idina believes her to influence me."

"Does she?"

"Not much. Not enough for me to dismiss this entirely. Idina herself told me that the - circumstances - of her father and Atalanta's mother's relationship were not exactly consensual. It is apparently common for pureblood men to keep Veela for sexual purposes in certain countries."

Lily recoiled. "That's _horrible._ If her father was like that, why on Earth does she disbelieve her sister? Especially if he hurt her too, even if it wasn't in the same way."

"She despises her sister, as I said. She trusts nothing that comes out of her mouth. And she genuinely does believe that Atalanta invited and enjoyed attention and love from her father." 

Lily wrinkled her nose. "Sev - do you think that Idina might be - _prejudiced_ against Veela?"

He frowned. "Prejudiced?"

"It's common," said Lily. "Even here. Even Sirius - and you know he always hated the idea of blood purity - used to make comments about Veela that would make your skin crawl. And if she was raised in an environment where her father just _kept_ one-" 

"You think she disbelieves her sister out of bigotry?"

"Not _entirely,"_ said Lily. "It sounds like they've got complicated history. I just mean that it could influence her. And you're not exactly sensitive to it."

"I suppose," said Severus. "But-"

A rap at the door rang through the house, so loudly that Severus thought it must be magically enhanced. "Aurors. Open up."

He turned to look, slowly and deliberately, at Lily. She shook her head. 

"I don't know what it could be about."

"Aurors," the voice repeated, and this time Severus recognised the growl. "Open up the door before I try and curse it off."

"I wouldn't attempt that," he said evenly, as Lily snapped, _"Moody!"_ She opened the door and scowled up, arms crossed, at her colleague. "What in Merlin's name are you doing here?"

Moody grinned, twisting his gnarled face even more. "Mr Snape. You're wanted at St Mungo's."


	24. Suspicions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus receives a shock.

Severus had a strange sense of déjá vu as he turned to look down at the hospital bed. The feeling twisted the knot in his stomach all the more, the apathy he had felt when Black had been lying there sharply contrasted by his emotions as he stared down at Idina. Unlike Black, she had no physical marks upon her, but the hushed voices of the Healers as the Head Mediwitch cast spell after spell at her sleeping form suggested to him that it was serious.

"What ails her?" he asked at last. He was glad that his voice remained neutral. He could feel the weight of Megaera's head against his shoulder, and the reminder of her vulnerability lent him some strength.

"Dark magic," said one of the other Healers, a boy who couldn't have been more than a year out of Hogwarts and kept giving Severus furtive glances. His voice was very high and he looked as if he thought Severus would dart out and force-feed him a fatal potion at any moment. "_Very_ Dark magic; the kind that nobody really practices anymore. None of us really recognise it, but Mediwitch Moonhorn should be able to stabilise her with the spells she's using." Moody hissed lightly from where he was sitting. As an Auror, he had been allowed to look at the medical charts, and he seemed to take it as a personal offence that someone had utilised a spell he had never seen.

"Have you noted any symptoms?" Severus asked, forcing himself not to panic. He hardly trusted these Healers' expertise when it came to _truly_ Dark spells. "I may recognise it. I know something of Dark Magic."

Moody cackled from the corner. Severus ignored him.

"Yes," said the Head Mediwitch, stepping back from Idina's body. Her tone was curt. "We know who you are." She cleared her throat. "We have only one symptom, but it is remarkably distinctive. Both her internal body - bones and organs - and her magical core have been deeply cut in a precise pattern made up of close, diagonal lines. This severe injury to her core sent her into a state of magical shock that, ironically, kept her alive, as the flow of magic was able to sustain her despite the extensive physical damage." She scrutinised Idina closely. "I don't think this is an intended side effect. I did some readings on her core. Not only is she unexpectedly powerful, she has a flexibility to her magic not present in the vast majority of the Wizarding population. A weaker wizard with magic less known to adapting itself would have died in essentially seconds." She arched an eyebrow. "Well? Do you know the spell? I imagine it's the sort that you either know or you don't."

"I do," said Severus curtly. _"Rete in limine mortis."_

Moody growled; the young male Healer retreated into himself as if Severus had cast it with his wand. The Head Mediwitch frowned. "I have never heard of it. How does it work?"

"It requires a threshold. Auror Moody -" he jerked at his name as if Severus was about to hex him - "mentioned to me that she was found just outside my front door, so I assume that that is where it was cast. It is a magical net triggered to fall once the threshold is crossed."

"So as soon as she left the house, she would have been struck. Do you know what time she left the house, Mr Snape?"

Severus gave her an approximate time and she scribbled down a note. After that, it was a matter of answering questions; how one might come across the spell, more of how it worked, whether he knew of someone who might want to hurt Idina. 

"Yes," Moody said, fixing both eyes on Severus. "That is a question _I'm_ interested in, Mr Snape. It's intriguing that you know about this very quiet spell that was used to injure your partner. Very intriguing. Row, perhaps? An affair? I imagine Death Eaters don't take to turbulence in relationships too well."

"Maybe they don't," said Severus, voice softening in his anger, "but I am one no longer, and am hardly inclined to throw myself face-first into Azkaban out of whatever petty argument you have imagined. Besides, the spell could just as easily have been cast with me in mind."

"How so, Mr Snape?" asked the Mediwitch sharply. She examined him as if wanting to cast diagnostic spells, reminding him very suddenly of Madam Pomfrey.

"It is a spell for thresholds, not people. It was used by old Pureblood families, mainly, who viewed an injury to a member of the intended recipient's family as an injury to that recipient. It has no sense of discernment; had I left, and not her, it would have come upon me."

"And if you had left together?"

"Both of us. Picture it as a net, as I said. It would ensnare us both." He felt his arms tighten around Megaera. "And if she had not left me babysitting her daughter, but took her instead-"

The young Healer shuddered. 

"Is there a cure for this curse, to your knowledge?"

"Yes," said Severus, "but it is hardly the most forgiving one. It requires the cursed person to cross the threshold again. Most people struck with it do not get the chance." 

Mediwitch Moonhorn clicked her teeth crossly, as if she had been expecting that the Dark Wizard who invented the spell would consider the health of his victims upon deciding on it. "I won't move her for a few more hours; I don't even want to levitate her in this state. Any magic interacting with all that's flowing free might implode something. I cast enough Stasis Charms to mean she won't bleed out, as long as everyone keeps an eye. She doesn't have to walk or anything? She can just be pulled through?"

"To my understanding. But, of course, there are hardly any recorded cases."

Mediwitch Moonhorn nodded grimly. "Very well. Then we wait. Auror Moody, you can ask your questions during this time, so long as no disturbance is caused to the patient. Febrilin!" The young Healer jumped. "Make sure you are paying attention until we decide to take her over there. She shouldn't be bleeding, but there isn't anything we can do about that core. If you can sense a lot of tension or disruption, call me at once. If that's the case, we'll have to take her early."

Febrilin nodded anxiously and scampered over to Idina's bedside, clearly not sure whether he was more afraid to be left alone with Moody or Severus. Megaera mumbled a little in her sleep. He shifted her; hopefully, she wouldn't wake until the ordeal was over. He was sure that Idina wouldn't want him to use a Sleeping Charm. 

"You say this spell was used by old Purebloods?" Moody barked at him.

"Indeed."

"Old Purebloods like your Death Eater mates, then?"

Severus looked down his nose at the Auror. He didn't think it cowered him (he would be surprised if it had, with the Auror's reputation) but it was best to appear intimidating as possible with such an opponent. "I assure you, the type of family lines I am discussing were never particularly interested in myself."

"And why is that?"

"I am a half-blood," said Severus simply, "with little culture and no beauty."

Moody croaked out a laugh. "Nobody can say that you don't speak plainly, Snape. Where was Idina going?"

"She didn't tell me." 

"Why not?"

"It's not unusual. She works in spell invention. Her clients often want discretion." Moody made another note. 

" What sort of families should I be looking at, for my investigation, then? You got any names?"

Severus cast his mind back. He had definitely looked into this spell fairly extensively; such an incredibly Dark and innovative piece of magic, heavily embedded in Pureblood family culture, had been fascinating to him. "I can definitely remember the curse being cast by a Carrow, around a half-century ago, although they were never really important enough to have it inflicted upon them. Patroclus Greengrass was sent to Azkaban in the early 20th century for casting it on a beautiful wall of glass doors that went out into the Nightward family garden. They stepped out together for lunch and the entire bloodline was obliterated."

Moody whistled.

"Members of almost every family have used it, of course. The Parkinsons practically flung it about in the 19th century, when they were still establishing power. It was rumoured to be a disciplinary measure in Pureblood families more prone to madness."

"Such as Gaunt?"

Severus smiled a very ugly smile, a thought flashing to him with all the sweetness and ferocity of an Acid Pop. "Such as Black."

Moody met his eyes and made a note down on his parchment, although Severus could make no educated guess as to what was said. "Is that an accusation, Mr Snape?"

"Not an accusation," said Severus smoothly. "Like I said, it was just a rumour - and one heavily contested. Idina is the first person to survive this long from it in three hundred or so years. Discipline loses some of its touch when your child has no chance to learn from the lesson."

"So how was it used for discipline at all?"

"Scholars that thought it was true thought it might be something of a coming-of-age rite," said Severus. "As the Mediwitch explained, it has much to do with the nature of the magical core. It might have been used to test the worthiness of future heirs."

Moody croaked out another, menacing laugh. "Very good, Mr Snape. Very good. You have a whole story planned out, it seems."

"These are merely facts," said Severus steadily. Moody laughed again.

"Of course, of course. Well, they do ring true - even to my paranoid old brain - but don't think I won't do my research." He heaved himself onto his feet. "We'll see, Mr Snape, we'll see. You're the obvious suspect - but well, they _do_ always say … thinking of the obvious is how you get yourself buried in a ditch. And I do wonder why you'd be so helpful, if it were you …"

"Then why am I under suspicion?" Severus asked, trying to keep the note of frustration out of his voice. He refused to look at Idina, keeping his breathing in time with Megaera's. He could feel her heartbeat against his arm.

Moody grinned, his smile matching Severus' in its ugliness. "Constant vigilance, my old friend. Constant vigilance."


	25. Thresholds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus meets the person who found Idina, and decides that their help could be useful. The Healers attempt to heal her.

Severus watched impassively as the Healers began the first round of protective charms. It had been two hours, and apparently the flow from Idina's magical core had ceased.

"Picture it like a scab," said Mediwitch Moonhorn, catching Severus' questioning glance. "Magic knows when it's being threatened, and it sorts itself out soon enough. But as of now, even if she wakes up, she won't be able to utilise it in any way - even for an incredibly simple spell, or her wounds will start tearing open again."

"I see," he said, rocking Megaera. She had begun shifting and whimpering in her sleep, usually signs that she was about to wake up, but this was hardly the best time. He wanted to keep her sleeping for as long as possible. "And after the curse has been reversed?"

"We don't know enough about the curse to say anything much on that, Mr Snape," she admitted. "But we'll be able to cast some spells on her core to see what state she is in." Megaera sniffled. She cast her a glance. "Is she waking up? You can take the little lamb out; I don't think this would be nice for her to see, and she might distract the Healers."

Severus ground his teeth. He wanted to stay with Idina, but he definitely didn't want her disturbed or Megaera seriously upset by the sight of her mother. As if noting his predicament, Moonhorn's face softened.

"She'll be fine, you'll see," she said. "Thanks to your information, we'll have her as normal in no time. You just focus on the little one."

Severus nodded - however nicely worded, he knew a dismissal when he heard it - and exited the room, only to come face-to-face with a woman with wildly curled (and badly dyed) platinum hair and gaudy glasses. She held out a large hand, which he ignored.

"May I ask who you are?"

"Rita Skeeter," she said, sending him a dazzling smile that, if anything, made him far more mistrustful. A bright green quill beside her began scribbling ferociously onto a hovering piece of parchment. "Won't you shake my hand, Mr Snape? You needn't worry for traps or spells or anything of the like. I'm just a reporter."

"People of all walks of life have reason to want me injured," he said. The quill - impossibly - sped up. "A reporter reporting on _what?"_

"Why you, Mr Snape, as every reporter has been all this time," said Skeeter, eyes taking on a very predatory look. "But we've all been going on hearsay. I've decided that I'd like something a bit more concrete."

"I have nothing to gain in lending any credibility to your gossip," he said irritably.

"Come now, Severus. I was a Slytherin myself; I know that you know that there's _always_ something to gain. And not just that nobody would have found Miss Idina Brass had I not been outside your house waiting." Her smile widened. "What _is_ Idina to you? Friend? Paramour? _Saviour?_ " The man beside her snapped a photo at each word.

He scowled, but grudgingly accepted that she must have acted quickly and effectively to have Idina brought to St Mungo's alive. He didn't for a moment think that she had been concerned with her health as a good story or her own reputation, but that wasn't so much the point in something as serious as this. "And what exactly would I gain?"

"I'm not a stupid woman, Mr Snape. I have no interest in making an enemy of you," she said, now putting on an earnest demeanour that he trusted even less than her words. "Why would I, when you have such a dangerous reputation? But that reputation _could_ do with a little - let's say, _polishing."_ She leaned in. "I'm a very sensitive writer, and I've just earned my spot with the Daily Prophet. I'll write an article that lets you retain all the connotations of intelligence and power whilst losing you some of the worst assumptions."

"How very charitable of you," he said snidely, but this was sounding less and less like a ridiculous idea. He and Idina _had_ been talking about his relationship with the press. It wouldn't do his Wolfsbane study any harm to have a few preceding articles that portrayed him as something other than a monstrous killer. "And what do you want from this?"

"The Daily Prophet is all very well and good," she explained, sitting herself down on one of the chairs outside the room, "but I want the front page. An exclusive interview with Severus Snape will surely do that. Why don't you sit next to me and answer some questions? Who's the baby?"

"Her name is Megaera, she's Idina's, and there will be no pictures of her published-" he scowled at the photographer - "without the permission of her mother." The quill continued scribbling. 

Rita smiled. "Well, we can ask her once she's recovered. I'll send her over the pictures we want to use."

"You can send me the entire article," said Severus, ensuring that both his expression and tone were steely. "I would like to read it before it's published. I'm sure you can imagine my reaction if I find it unfavourable."

Rita put her hand over her heart, which was clothed in a truly hideous lime-green jacket, but she couldn't hide that it trembled slightly. "Why of course, Mr Snape. I wouldn't dream of anything else."

He smiled, knowing full well that it met her own predatory gleam and sent it running. He might not be able to trust her integrity, but he imagined that she was extraordinarily devoted to her own self-preservation. 

By the end of his interview with Skeeter, Megaera was awake (albeit sleepy) and busying herself colouring a picture of a dragon that she had decided was more interesting than the pretty mermaid she had initially been offered. Rita remained, instructing her photographer to take pictures whenever he so much as looked at either her or the drawing. Combined with his worry for Idina, the situation was so tense that he physically jumped when the door finally opened. It was Augustus Febrilin again. 

"We're ready to move her, Mr Snape," he said, impressively managing not to stutter. "We'll be coming out now." Severus rose as Moonhorn and two other Healers levitated Idina out. She was lying on a stretcher and had been strapped in, although very loosely. He assumed that that was to avoid aggravating her wounds. The layer of spells around her was so thick that he could barely make her out. 

"Mama?" Megaera questioned, pausing in her colouring. She stared, wide-eyed, at Idina's face. 

"She's sleeping," said Febrilin hurriedly. Megaera looked at their surroundings and then Idina again and finally jutted out her lower lip. Severus could see her beginning to cry.

"She's sick," he said, hopefully soothingly, "but we're going to take her home to make her better again." He ignored the Quill's frantic jerking. Megaera plunged her thumb in her mouth - Idina would have scolded her, but Severus didn't think that now was the time - but didn't start crying, although she didn't carry on colouring either. Her eyes were fixed on her unconscious mother. "How are we arriving there?" he asked, directing the question at Febrilin. He looked the least busy at the moment.

"We don't want to use Floo or Apparation. Too much risk. We're going to drive her in a Muggle car."

"Won't that take longer?"

"Mediwitch Moonhorn doesn't think that time is as big of a risk as disrupting her core or body," said Febrilin, his body language suggesting that he thought he might be struck dead on the spot for challenging Severus. Severus nodded, not trusting his voice were he to speak, and followed them into the car. It was sleek, big enough for all of them, and had tables on the backs of the front seats. He opened it so that Megaera could continue colouring.

Rita was already there when the car was at last parked outside his house, directing her photographer to take pictures. She hastily turned him round when they began exiting.

"No distractions while we're performing the procedure, thank you," said Mediwitch Moonhorn crisply, giving the photographer a cold look. "Mr Snape, if you could allow us in. Not the reporter."

"Of course not," he said. He had no plans on letting the noxious woman into his home. Skeeter huffed but stayed put.

He opened the door as quickly as possible with Megaera on his hip. Thankfully, she was roaring at her dragon (which had been charmed to roar back once fully coloured in) and didn't seem to note the intensity of the atmosphere. Idina's levitation onto the sofa was strangely anticlimactic, although once they tentatively removed the first of the bandages, it became plain that the cuts on her skin, at least, had disappeared. The Healers began firing off diagnostic spells, which at last grasped Megaera's attention.

"Making Mummy better?" she asked anxiously. She stretched out a hand as if wanting to help.

"Yes," he said, immediately turning into the kitchen so she couldn't see anymore. "How about some dinner for you?" She mumbled, trying to look over his shoulder, but she was hungry and seemed to feel comforted by their efforts. He busied himself with sorting out food for the two of them, prolonging it as much as he could to avoid the living room until they were finished. He told himself that he just didn't want to interrupt the Healers, ignoring the sickening sense of doubt and fear coiling in his stomach as time ticked on. 

He had just finished a drink for himself and her when it happened. There was a gasp, some exclamations and then he heard, _"Megaera?"_ in a voice that was distinctly Idina's, if a little hoarser than usual. He whirled back into the living room to see her sitting upright, despite an anxious Healer pushing at her shoulders.

"Please, Miss Brass, we still are unsure of your recovery-"

Idina waved her away, reaching out for Megaera. Severus handed her over, starting when Idina clasped his hand as well. "I am fine. I will be fine. Thank you very much for your gracious help. I will, of course, make a most generous donation." She examined the bandages with a slight frown. "Can someone fill me in?"


	26. Propaganda

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They receive a first draft of the article, and Severus and Idina receive frustrating news from Miss Chantelle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very sorry that this is late! I've been very ill recently and so was unable to edit it on the Sunday like I usually do. I'm still not great so I apologise if this chapter is below standards. I'm off school this week so hopefully I can release an earlier update to make up for it!

Idina entered wearing rabbit slippers, a nightdress and an enormous, fluffy dressing gown. She carried with her a large mug of hot chocolate (a treat she rarely indulged in) and a box of biscuits. "The Healers said to rest," she said, catching Severus' slight smile, "which I am doing."

"You've been writing letters all morning," he responded.

"Letters to _friends,"_ she said, sitting down. 

"All of your friends are business contacts in one way or another."

Idina scoffed. "And yours?"

"I only have one friend, Lily, and she's too idealistic-"

"-naïve-"

"-to count as a business contact." Severus arched an eyebrow. "I thought you liked Lily."

She sniffed. "I never said that. Regardless, it is imperative that I know who it was that cast that spell. If it were a simple attempt on my life, I would be offended but perhaps trust the Auror department to handle the investigation, at least at the beginning. But this is old, dark magic, and it may have either hit you or Megaera."

"I understand that much," Severus conceded. "Megaera angers you for obvious reasons." Idina's eyes clouded over briefly in the same way they had when he had explained the danger her daughter might have been in the first time. "And it complicates things that it may have been for me. It broadens the number of potential attackers, and means that the Auror department are less likely to be cooperative. They have relatively little history with you, after all."

"I care because I care, Severus, not just because it is more complicated," said Idina. He shifted, ready to combat his embarrassment with irritability, when she changed the subject. "What are you holding?"

"Skeeter's article." 

"Have you read it?"

"I thought we would together," said Severus dryly. "I'm sure it will be excellent entertainment."

She laughed, repositioning herself so that she could see it more clearly, and began reading the article aloud.

_SNAPE'S SAVIOUR SCARCELY SURVIVES AFTER MURDER ATTEMPT AT HIS HOME_

The picture was of him by Idina's bedside. She was so wrapped in bandages that she barely counted as present, but he was the centre of the photograph. He scowled at the camera flash, and then returned to looking at Idina. He appeared more anxious than he remembered being.

_Whilst rumours circulated about a range of increasingly unlikely romances, only one witch could truly claim to be Severus Snape's lover. Idina Brass, a beautiful and gifted witch, made her name in spell invention, something that perhaps connects her to the dark but powerful innovator. Whilst many members of the Wizarding public shied away from welcoming Snape back into the fold, she was keen to get to know him after a mysterious divorce from wizard Caspian Whitestone._

Idina paused in her reading to glower at the paper. "She can edit _that_ out."

"I'll let her know," he said, marking it on the page. He mentally noted that Caspian and Idina had indeed been married. 

_She was cruelly repaid for her act of kindness when a brutal and extremely Dark spell was cast on the door of Severus' home. Rather than targeting a specific person, the now mostly forgotten curse hangs on thresholds, threatening both the magical core and life of those it comes into contact with, which can be any number of people. I was there when Severus Snape was able to offer this information, his expertise in the Dark Arts allowing the Healers to save her life. Should the curse come back in fashion, young Healer Augustus Febrilin has assured me that the vast majority of the general public would not survive._

_"As well as Mr Snape telling us what it was," he stammered to me during our questioning, "M-Miss Brass' magical core is quite extraordinary. Possibly due to her work in spell invention. Most people would have died in seconds."_

"Is that boy _really_ a Healer?" said Idina critically, looking at his picture.

"He looked even more nervous whilst I was at St Mungo's."

_Idina, however, was alive but gravely injured when the spell took effect. Luckily I, Rita Skeeter, was there, hoping to see either her or Mr Snape, and was able to get her to St Mungo's in time. As we tensely waited for the Healers to operate, I was able to talk to Mr Snape, an honour many journalists have coveted with no result. His immediate reaction was one of mistrust. Even once I explained myself to be simply a reporter, he responded that people of all walks of life have harmful intent towards him. Such a melancholy view of life only intrigued me more, and I was able to push past his cold exterior to learn more about him as a man._

_Severus credited Idina for her help in his assimilation back into society, explained that he had met her whilst working on a project, the details of which he would not disclose. He has, however, promised that once the work is completed, the Wizarding World will be let know. We at _the Daily Prophet_ are sure that their combined genius will ensure wonderful results. Whilst he still was not the most forthcoming, especially about his personal life, his concern for Idina was palpable, as was his protectiveness towards her young daughter, Megaera. This was perhaps enhanced by the fact that the lovely toddler was in just as much danger as either him or Idina. In fact, more, as a child's magic would not stand a chance against such a powerful and evil spell. Megaera, of course, understood none of this, but she was deeply unsettled to see her mother so unwell. He soothed and calmed her throughout the traumatic ordeal, and made clear from the very beginning that no photographs were to be published of her in any articles._

"You did?" asked Idina, raising an eyebrow.

"I simply said she had to put them through us first, as with the rest of the article. I suppose she decided that that made a better story."

_Again on Snape's advice, the Healers were able to save Idina's life. But this strange experience has taught me much, and raised many questions. The villain proved himself capable of playing hero, and despite the war with Voldemort being won, Dark Magic is still clearly and painfully present in our world._

_By Rita Skeeter_

"She has a way with words," said Idina. "And an interesting way of spinning events. It's certainly more positive press than you've been receiving."

"Her hunger for details about my life even comes through in print," he said, in disgust.

"That will transfer onto the readers," said Idina encouragingly. "They will begin to see you as a person they want to know more about, rather than a criminal. She's already rebranding you as an on-edge genius instead of a terrorist."

He scowled. "You wouldn't be so supportive if you had met her."

"I think I understand from your descriptions," said Idina lightly. "Don't let personal feelings enter into it. Only have her remove the mention of my divorce. We don't need discussions of _that_ entering public domain."

"I don't think people would react to that as poorly as they will to me."

"It's how I dealt with it that I don't want talked about, not the divorce itself," said Idina primly. "Ah - I recognise that owl. It's from Chantelle."

Severus was left to muse on Caspian Whitestone as he began penning a quick letter to Skeeter. Idina was talking to Miss Chantelle's owl, a handsome, hawk-like one this time. He remembered her pink and sinister Owlery and shuddered. 

"What's wrong?" she asked, flipping open the letter. "She still wants to know if you'll tutor Blaise."

"Memories, and no," he said. "What else does she say?"

Idina's face had taken on a steely look. "She's responding to my request as to who cast the spell. She doesn't know, and apparently, that is to be the official and legal position of the Auror department. The investigation has already been inwardly shut down," said Idina curtly. "The paperwork has been filed and the case declared a dud. You and Skeeter were seen together, so they are anticipating that they won't be able to hush the story entirely - really, they should have known that with _my_ involvement - but they've already planned how they're going to do this in terms of PR."

"And they have far more weight than us," said Severus, voice thick with loathing. 

"Yes," said Idina, "but we do have the upper hand in _one_ aspect. If they release a statement today saying that they can't possibly know who it was, even the average person on the street will ask why they only tried for one day. Miss Chantelle believes that we have about a week before they begin their propaganda campaign." She smiled widely, a glint sparking in her eyes. "So we can get in there first."

"You're meant to be resting."

"This is rest. Once I'm better, we can refocus on Herpo. Minnie!"

Minnie appeared with the accompanying bang. "Yes, Miss Idina?"

"Bring me my contacts book. I need to speak to someone in Magical Law Enforcement."


	27. Shock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus and Idina begin their propaganda war with the Ministry. Lily is placed in a difficult position at work.

Idina had been trading letters with Miss Chantelle for a large part of the afternoon, apparently amassing some journalists to spread their version of events more widely. Severus had written in to the Ministry claiming he needed time off to recover from his ordeal and ensure his safety. They agreed; he suspected that they just didn't want to deal with him yet.

"They knew that they couldn't keep it entirely quiet," said Idina in satisfaction, "but this way, they'll know that they won't be able to stop people from talking about it. Now - we only have a week before the Ministry stick their stories in, so speed is of the essence. We need to lay suitable groundwork for their inevitable retaliation." 

"May they not respond more swiftly once they see we are prepared for an all-out press war?" asked Severus. He moved forward to examine Idina's list of willing reporters, raising an eyebrow at the long list of names. "This is remarkable." 

"Even by her standards, Chantelle has many connections when it comes to the press," said Idina, smiling proudly. "And she likes us. Will you give an interview about your work for lycanthropy at some point in the week?" 

Severus shook his head shortly. "I promised Echo that I would not publish anything until I was absolutely sure of a cure. He is worried of the damage false hope could do to the community. I won't have even met the test subjects until tomorrow, and I doubt that such a complicated potion will go that smoothly from the beginning."

Idina sighed. "Unfortunate, but I agree that you should keep your word, especially when it comes to him - or any client of Miss Chantelle's. Merlin forbid that _she_ stop doing business with us. Well then. I'm going to do an interview with Witch Weekly-" 

"What about?" 

"About myself. My painful recovery, my tragic divorce, my unlikely new romance." Idina smiled wickedly. "And, of course, my wonderful sense of style."

"I didn't think you'd want to do such a thing. You didn't want Skeeter mentioning your divorce." 

Idina bristled. "No, but she was able to dig it up, and now that we are courting press attention someone is certain to report on it. Based on your description of the woman, it may even be her. I want to get in there first. I need more overt influence if I am to take on the Ministry, especially on your behalf. More importantly, working on my reputation will give us time." 

"I thought that was the one thing we didn't have." 

Idina waved her hand. "Not with the Ministry, but with Herpo. If I begin building myself as a public figure-" 

"He will think you are approaching the destiny _he_ has planned for you," Severus finished. "Which is, control over England's magical population. So you will tell him of what is happening, then?" 

"I daresay the portraits may have begun considering that I am no longer present in the house," said Idina. "They will want to know why. I will tell them that moving in with you is because it makes clear to the public my alliance with a dangerous and skilled Potion master, therefore convincing them that my new reputation is suitably Dark. You will tell the Wizarding public that it is part of our growing closeness and your assimilation into society, thus elevating your standing. Of course, in reality, I wish to avoid the portraits and their influence and keep Megaera away from them and my darling sister." 

"Extraordinary," said Severus, impressed at the speed at which she was going, "but I think we should start taking notes." 

In a few hours, all was decided. The next day, Rita Skeeter's article would be released, alongside similar stories in several other Wizarding tabloids and a few more respectable papers. This would allow the wider public to absorb what had happened to Idina as quickly as possible and make it extraordinarily difficult for the Ministry to attempt to counter or alter the story, as well as beginning speculation on both Idina and Severus' character.

After that, public interest in Idina was sure to rise. Severus would prefer to let it stew a while, but they didn't have time for that. The next day would see the release of her interview with _Witch Weekly_ and several articles on her business in spell invention. Some of her more creative and important spells could worm their way into academic journals such as _Transfiguration Today_ and Skeeter had been overjoyed to hear that the wards that had injured Black had been of Idina's invention. She hadn't seemed to mind at all that they refused her any details of how they worked. All of the articles, of course, as well as building up Idina's reputation (and his by association) would emphasise the nature of the recent crime against her. 

"You don't think it will seem too contrived?" asked Idina, looking critically over the list of papers. 

"Not at all," said Severus. "It will just seem like the papers capitalising on a sudden public interest - at least to the average witch or wizard. The Ministry are sure to suspect."

"Once they release news that they're giving up the case," said Idina grimly, "they'll do more than suspect. They won't know what hit them." She tapped her quill on the page. "I want one of these historical papers to do something on the history of the spell. And then the next day, have the more mainstream publications making clear the danger of it, both previously and currently. Have the Wizarding World run riot in panic." 

"That's not very nice of you," said Severus, a smile edging the corner of his mouth. 

"It wouldn't do them any harm to stress," said Idina, eyes bright. "Whoever cast the spell _is_ out there after all. Now - we just have to ensure that they don't run out of steam for the remainder of the week, which I think is unlikely given all of this. But I _was_ thinking on something else, just one last article to deal the final blow."

"What?" asked Severus, curiosity piqued.

"What about cutting their announcement out from underneath them?" asked Idina, smiling deviously. "Letting the publications know that the Ministry has shut down the investigation before the Ministry themselves are prepared to move?"

"Which gives us control of that narrative," said Severus, immediately seeing the brilliance of it. "And whatever the Ministry's response is, it will either sound like an agreement or an attempted coverup of what has already been said. It would completely undermine them. How do you plan on doing this?"

"I spoke to my friend in the Magical Law Enforcement department," said Idina silkily. "He would be glad to offer some quotes and information at my request." 

"And the nature of this friend?" asked Severus, raising an eyebrow. 

"Let's just say I know of him doing some things that he shouldn't have," said Idina lightly. "Now - I'll finalise all preparations. Don't you need to do something in the lab?"

"Just a bit more fine tuning before I meet the test subjects," said Severus, "and a little more study. You can write to Roberta and let her know of the progress if you wish." 

"If she can reach me between all the owls we'll be receiving," said Idina victoriously, taking out her first sheet of parchment.

Roberta's owl did reach them, but it was a close thing. 

The wards did not let strange owls through, but they were still nearly flooded with envelopes once they opened the front door (after checking it for spells, of course.) Some were Howlers. Many were addressed to Severus - he had received them in a constant stream since his release, and dealt with them through Combustion Charms - but just as many were for Idina. Skeeter's efforts to paint her as a charitable example or romantic heroine hadn't gotten through to everybody. Once the _Witch Weekly_ article came out with her interview, the outraged members of the public had far more ammunition.

Severus passed a stack of them as he left for Miss Chantelle's. The shot on the cover showed her with her hair in a braid - less forbidding than her usual tight bun, but Idina did not appear in public with her hair loose. She wore a lavender robe with intricate detailing and flamboyant, bejewelled earrings. With her dark eye makeup, she looked beautiful and respectable, but hardly approachable. Her hard smile didn't leave much room for doubt that she could cope with Severus Snape.

"Awfully pretty, isn't she?" said a witch at the stand. "I've been thinking about robes like that for myself."

"They wash her out," said her friend, more than viciously. "And she's far too bony and long-nosed to be pretty. Looks like a Muggle caricature. Must be why the only man she can find is a Death Eater!"

"Her first husband was very respectable," the first witch argued. "Sounds like a right pig, though - look what she says -"

Shaking his head, he entered. He was shown to a round room with predictably pink walls. Echo was seated there with six women and four men, all of whom regarded Severus with hopeful but suspicious eyes. 

"You can really cure us, then?" the woman on the left asked. 

"I certainly think so," he said smoothly. "May I take your name?" 

Of course, the potion was pointless to test until the next full moon, which wasn't until next week, but they still had to agree on a meeting place, and he had to assure them that the potion wouldn't poison them and was likely to work. Once everything had finally been ironed out, Echo had them all sign legal documentation to not spread the discussion elsewhere, with the wizards and witches amongst the group also swearing magical vows. Severus couldn't fault the man's thoroughness. 

"Nice catch, Snape!" a man hooted as he left the building. A woman flung her hair back and stalked off in the opposite direction. 

The next three days were a whirlwind of such conflicting reactions, as they had expected, especially once the Ministry article had been released. They confined themselves to Severus' house rather than going out in such heated times, where they spent a lot of time combing through post (or rather, Idina did, and Severus destroyed everything addressed to him that wasn't from Echo.) 

"I've never been called a slut in quite so many different ways," Idina mused, putting aside another letter.

"I don't know why you read them, much less keep them," said Severus, setting another addressed to him on fire. 

"You miss the supportive ones that way," said Idina. Severus rolled his eyes. "Besides, I'm compiling a list of the particularly horrific ones to send to Rita. She can do an article on our shocking treatment." 

He snorted. "How did people respond to the content of the articles itself?" 

"Dear Caspian is in quite a mood with me, I should imagine," said Idina. "He doesn't come off very well. But overall I appear quite the aspirational witch. I've received some more offers from witch's magazines. But-" she triumphantly held up a _Daily Prophet_ -"the real success was the article exposing the Auror department. Nobody can really pin any blame on us for that one; it's all their incompetence, after all." She tossed him another stack of envelopes. "For you." 

Severus' lip curled, raising his wand to set the stack alight, but the handwriting on the first caught his attention. He immediately recognised it. 

_Dear Sev,_

_I'm not sure if you have seen (I know you don't read the papers) but an article was recently released about the investigation on you and Idina. It doesn't paint the Ministry or the Aurors in the best light - I can explain all that later - but everybody here is really furious. I'm under investigation for being friends with you because there was a source quoted in the article that they're absolutely sure was from the Ministry._

_I know you're off - and hope Idina is doing better - but can we talk? It might actually be better for you to come round. I can't go to yours - they'll have my head - but there will be witnesses at mine. And I want to speak to you before you go back to work because they really are spitting. Hope that you're doing okay, _

_Lily_


	28. Pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus meeting Lily sparks a confrontation.

"Absolutely not," said Idina. Severus opened his mouth to reply, but she continued speaking. "You said _yourself_ that you suspected Sirius Black, who presumably lurks around their house like a ghost. Even if not, he could have asked her to set up this meeting-"

"Lily wouldn't take part in that sort of subterfuge."

"Perhaps not willingly," said Idina swiftly. Severus rolled his eyes.

"She's not stupid either."

She snorted dismissively. "Your loyalty does you credit but, if you have forgotten, her husband _lives_ with her, and he is a known partner to Black, and a known enemy of you. It is madness to enter their house. Why can she not meet you here, or in a neutral place? No recent attempts were made on _her_ life."

"I did not nearly lose my life, either," said Severus, but his tone was gentle. It wasn't as if he particularly trusted Potter or Black or wanted to enter their place of dwelling.

"But we do not know that I was the target; again, as you said yourself," said Idina. Her words were blunt but her tone had softened, matching his. "Write her back demanding another place to meet, if it is so urgent."

He sighed, summoning some parchment, and hastily composed a letter.

_Lily,_

_I apologise if you have been inconvenienced, and am of course happy to meet to discuss things with you. However, I am somewhat concerned for my safety, and cannot meet you unless it is in my house or in a neutral environment._

_Severus_

He arched an eyebrow at Idina. "Happy?"

"I don't know what it said," she responded primly. "But hopefully."

Lily's reply was even more prompt than he expected. The letter was practically flung on the desk, and he could tell by the slant of the letters and blots that she had written it even more rushed than he had. _A neutral place, then. If there's one safe enough for you._ was all it said. 

"Well?" 

"I think she might be annoyed," said Severus, squinting at it. "Or worried. It is hard to tell over letter." 

"Do you want me to come?"

"She asked to meet me only," he said. "Would Miss Chantelle object to the use of her parlour? I do not think it wise to meet her somewhere unprotected, and she doesn't want to come here."

"She has a specific entrance for people brought there to meet others that have no specific value of their own," said Idina, ignoring his bristle at the description of Lily. "I can find the address of it, if you would like to give it to her. Send a letter to Chantelle in advance." 

He sent off the two letters quickly - phrasing the one to Miss Chantelle much more elegantly than the one to Lily - and left. However Lily was feeling, her sense of urgency was unmistakeable. 

The parlour he was shown to this time was elegantly decorated, but it was nowhere near as opulent as the sitting room full of tables reserved for the regulars. The walls were still pink, but with no gold.

Lily took a little while to arrive, in which he enjoyed a scented juice with a distinctly floral taste. He hid a smile; even if she wasn't particularly trying to impress, Miss Chantelle remained herself. When she did enter, she looked just as out of place as he did in the room, which at first surprised him but made sense once he thought on it. She wore white robes with a severe cut, and her hair was pulled back in the tight ponytail she appeared to favour nowadays. Mostly, he thought it was the expression: grim, but clear and bright, far apart from the silky or neutral expressions of this room's general patrons. 

"What sort of place is this?" she asked, looking around the room with a slight edge to her lip. "I've never heard of it."

"Just a social parlour," he said, with a shrug. "But it has protections around it that a normal café or restaurant wouldn't, so I can trust that I will be safe."

"My house has wards too," she said abruptly. 

He avoided mentioning either her husband or Black. "Juice?"

"No, thank you," she replied tersely, taking a seat as if the table was repellent to her. He was now almost certain that she was annoyed, but if she was expressing it so overtly, he was sure that she would come out with it soon. He would let her bring it up. 

"On what did you wish to speak?"

"Well, the article, obviously," said Lily, running a hand over her face. The stress lines around her mouth deepened, and for a moment, her green eyes shadowed. "The department is furious. They questioned me for hours. Have you _read_ it?"

"I picked up a copy," said Severus delicately. He didn't think it wise to tell her that he and Idina had been the ones behind it; whilst he didn't think Lily would report him, it was perhaps best not to put her in that position. She was in a precarious enough place already. Simply not giving her the option of betrayal was easier on both sides, and didn't risk annoying Idina, who didn't trust her nearly so much. "It doesn't surprise me that the Ministry is unhappy. Is it true?"

Lily's head jerked a little. "What do you mean, is it true?"

"Have they already abandoned the case?"

The lines creased again. "Yes. I kicked up a storm, if you must know, which is partially why they suspected me so much. Sev, I could lose my _job."_

Severus remembered that he wasn't supposed to know that Idina had a source in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and pulled a sympathetic yet curious face. "Were you the one that contacted the paper?"

Lily met his gaze coldly. "Do you think I was?"

"I think you would have told me, not the Prophet," said Severus cautiously. Her eyes narrowed as if considering the answer. "But I presumed that such suspicion would have some basis. If you are concerned about your position but had nothing to do with it, I will be happy to supply Veritaseum to the department." She continued staring, eyes still hard and unflinching. He stared at her straight, white back against the delicate detailing of the ornate chairs, and was reminded of how different she was to anyone else he would meet in one of Chantelle's parlours. She would probably respect him attacking head-on more. "Have I offended you?"

She laughed humourlessly, casting her eyes up to the ceiling. There was no art on it like in the majority of the rooms, but there was an intricate floral pattern. No lilies, but the ones that were there were loaded with symbolism. "Not particularly, Sev. Nothing - nothing really. It's just a bit rich, don't you think?"

He tilted his head, and poured some more juice. He could feel a storm approaching, but had no guess as to the nature of the beast. "How so?"

"That this is my reward for my kindness to you," she said, still meeting his gaze. He could credit her for that, at least, even as the first strand of anger began to coil. "The possibility of losing my job, and learning how little my colleagues actually trust me, and hours of brutal interrogation in that horrible, cramped room." 

He kept his voice slow and neutral, knowing that that would tell her of his annoyance (and annoy her) just as well as any combative tone. "Not losing you your job is relatively simple, as I already said. I suggest you take your treatment to the Ministry and the behaviour of your colleagues to them. As for me-" he paused, forcibly tempering his anger, but the sarcasm slipped through like ice between his teeth- "I do not believe I promised flowers or a promotion or everlasting riches as a result of your friendship."

"Don't twist what I'm saying!" she said hotly, eyes like burning frost. "I _knew_ you would react like this-"

"If you feel that your words are being twisted, tell me how I am supposed to receive them."

She pursed her lips. "I never expected you to _give_ me anything. You know I didn't. It's just that I made the effort of talking to you and trying to help you, and now I'm _losing_ things. You can't tell me that it's fair."

"People do not offer true kindnesses in consideration of profit or loss." His tongue felt heavy underneath all the things he wanted to say. "Or fairness."

"Because you know _so much_ about true kindness," said Lily, and now her voice was tinged with a bitterness he could not believe he had previously missed. "Don't you think I've lost enough to you already?"

He could feel her words as if they were climbing through his body, treading on the sinews, trampling on the muscle, pulling on and triggering things that were supposed to go untouched. Wounds he had barely remembered exploded to the roof of his mouth. He kept it firmly closed.

"Don't you think so? _Sev?_ Are you in there?" Her tone was almost mocking, but too cold to be so. He could feel the anger now, soft and slow-burning, like fire spreading throughout his insides to wither the words to ashes. He rose to his feet and looked down his nose at her.

"Whatever you have lost, you have lost to yourself," he said at last. "And taken great parts of me with you."

"Oh, I have, have I? I've _hurt_ you? I've done so much for you-"

"You have done charity," he snapped. "I daresay at the request of Dumbledore. And I have never, _ever_ wished for charity-" 

"Well, what else were you going to get?" Her voice was trembling. "Do you know how _difficult_ it is to like you? You fought with and hurt my sister. You creeped out my friends. You hung out with Dark people, and then turned Dark yourself. You joined the _Death Eaters._ I still have nightmares about Fabian Prewett. You _dared_ to betray the Dark Lord in _my_ name, as if I asked to be involved in your journey discovering _basic fucking morals._ And when I put all that behind me, and came to your house and talked over tea and biscuits like we were just ordinary friends, you still have the nerve to complain about it. Because you want nothing more than my pure, unselfish devotion to you. After everything you've done."

"I asked not for your pure or unselfish devotion," said Severus, his voice scalding and bubbling. "In fact, the only thing I asked of you is that I do not receive a pale imitation of your friendship. It seems that that was too big of a request, for a girl so obsessed with being _good."_

She laughed again, but almost hysterically. He could see her eyes coming alight with real anger. "I am _not_ a girl. I'm your age, and far more adult than you will ever be. And I won't take the fact that I have _morals_ as an insult."

"You don't," he said, fusing conviction into his voice because he knew this would hurt her above all. "You _don't._ If you did, you would have told me that you did not wish to be friends with me, instead of constructing this fragile performance in the hopes of praise for such a sacrifice." His lip curled, and his voice dipped into a sneer. "Did you hope for the Daily Prophet to talk about you like they did Idina? Did you want them to say how good and noble you are? Did you want to be on the front covers, the poster girl of the Light?"

_"I am not a girl,"_ she said, tone deadly, but he could see her face was flushed and her eyes were brimming with tears. He had no idea if she had wanted that or not, but either way, he knew it would cut her deeply, either with accuracy or unfairness.

"Oh, but you are," he said softly. Her hand clenched around her wand. He wondered if she would try to hex him; the thought didn't worry him particularly, even with her Auror training. The emotions the actions would evoke would be more of a problem. "If I am approached when I return to work, I will be happy to inform them that you were not involved in the article to my understanding. Does this satisfy you?"

Her lip trembled. "How could this possibly satisfy me?"

He knew what she meant. There was no sense of completion or relief that one might associate with the end of an argument. It felt like a mental bruise. But he had nothing more to say.

"I'm sure you'll manage to come to terms with it," he said bitterly - as soon as he spoke, he wished his tone could have been less bitter - and he whirled out of the room.

Once on the street (glamoured, of course) the anger settled and the other emotions crashed in. He felt grief, and guilt, and indescribable _pain._

_"Do you know how _difficult_ it is to like you?"_

He breathed out shakily, pausing for a moment to gather his thoughts. He didn't want to Apparate in this state.

Lily had clearly been harbouring these feelings for a long time. He wasn't sure if they had simply overwhelmed her or if something (most likely the prospect of losing her job) had pushed her to confession. Right now, he didn't want to think on it.

He pushed the hair back from his face, quickly sidestepping as a cloaked Wizard nearly bumped into him. This wasn't the place to dwell on his thoughts. He wanted to speak to Idina-

-and then he gasped, and blackness cloaked his vision.


	29. Drinks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus meets a new enemy and returns to an old prejudice.

Severus awoke in an uncomfortable, hard-backed chair with no wand. His wrists were bound, in a way he recognised from his trial.

_The Ministry._

He turned the potential reasons for the attack over in his head. Instincts from a lifestyle he had supposedly abandoned rose with ease, keeping his thoughts detached and cool. The anxieties he had battled with since his reform were replaced with an apathy, a sternness to his stomach. It was only by purposefully dipping into his emotions that he felt the layers of rage and pain behind the surface. 

Yes, this was a mood he knew well. And until Herpo was gone, Potter and Black were dealt with, Idina's attempted murderer was caught and _the Ministry weren't kidnapping him,_ it was a mood he would indulge in. 

He highly doubted that the Ministry had made his capture their official and public position. It wouldn't be particularly difficult for them but, if so, why not a great and ceremonious arrest with reporters and crowds? He looked around the room he was being kept in. It was lit, very dimly, but enough for him to make out some details. There was a desk with some papers and what looked like a quill, some portraits on the walls, and some frivolous but overall cheap-looking decoration. Had he been able to walk, the width of the room would perhaps be four or five paces across. He was in an office. 

Being kept in an office rather than a holding cell suggested that this was a secret within the Ministry itself. And it wasn't a large office, either, or (from what he could see) particularly well-furnished. Severus couldn't imagine anyone in a high-ranking position spending their working day here. No; he would speculate that he was being kept by someone relatively minor. 

All that was necessary to consider was how weighty the backing behind this person was. He presumed that _someone_ had authorised his kidnapping. But had it been the head of a department? A member of the Wizengamot? The Minister himself?

Maybe nobody had. But if so, it was extraordinarily risky to bring him into a Ministry office and bind him, assuming that this wasn't a study in someone's home. 

He dismissed that route of speculation for now and decided to consider why they wanted him in the first place. The article was the most likely guess, and that would suggest that the Ministry was indeed aware that he had been taken. In particular, the beloved Auror department. Face souring, he wondered if Lily had told any of his colleagues - most notably her husband, or one of his friends - about their meeting. That would explain how they had found him. And he wouldn't be surprised if certain Aurors (namely, her husband or one of his friends) were working against the general Ministry's wishes. He doubted Shacklebolt was behind this - but then again, he didn't know him very well. He could be.

His contemplation was interrupted by light. The room became suddenly clear, and he dismissed Potter and Black from the situation entirely, except perhaps as accomplices. He could only see their inhabitation of this room as a joke, and their recent behaviour went beyond joking.

_Their "jokes" went beyond joking,_ he reminded himself bitterly.

The room was pink - almost absurdly so, and he had just spent some time in Miss Chantelle's parlour. The portraits on the walls depicted not people but cats and kittens, many of them accessorised with bows or ribbons, and a white lace sheet had been draped over the desk in some absurd parody of a tablecloth. The woman who walked in fit her surroundings perfectly, with dark hair set in rigid curls and frilly, feminine clothing. She was not pretty; there was something distinctly amphibian about her face, but he thought his aversion was more of a reaction to her expression. She had a smug sense of cruelty about her that he instinctively disliked. 

"Would you like something to drink?" she enquired. Her voice was high and irritating, and sickly sweet.

"I would prefer an explanation."

She observed him a little before sitting across him. It felt as if she were his teacher and he was in a detention for a particularly heinous transgression. 

"There's nothing much to explain," is all she said, still in her uncomfortably bright tone. She spoke to him in amazingly condescending tones, but when he looked closely at her face and not at her clothes, it was clear that she was not by any means much older than he was. He felt a ruffling indignation brushing against his panic. "I'm sure you've heard all of the allegations flying to and fro about the Ministry, Mr Snape, particularly the esteemed Auror Department. And you know all about your own illegal doings." She giggled.

He stared into her flat, blue eyes with growing incredulity and - when it became apparent that she was not going to elaborate - cleared his throat. "I have a limited understanding of the issues raised pertaining to the attempted murder of either my partner or myself, and the Auror investigation. I have none on what you or the Ministry perceives as my _own illegal doings,_ unless you are referring to the crimes of which I have been cleared."

Her eyes took on a rather ugly look that he assumed meant that she had noted his separation of her and the Ministry. He had hoped that pride would nudge her into giving him some more names. As it was, she took on another smile (the most insincere yet) and shook her head. "Well, well. Let us take one thing at a time now, shall we? You said you have a _limited_ understanding of what has happened with the Auror department. You're a very clever man, Mr Snape. What limits you?"

"I don't read papers. It is a course of action I took to prevent myself from being unnecessarily destabilised while adjusting to civilian life, considering their reports on me."

"Those reports have taken a slightly more positive turn, as of late," she said, watching him closely. "Do you know why that is?"

"As I am telling you, I wouldn't know how positive or negative their stories are. I have no knowledge of them. The only articles I have read is one a certain reporter wrote the night my partner was recovering from the curse. My mental state was naturally affected, and I did not resist as strongly as I would normally. And I briefly skimmed the one reporting the Auror department's apparent negligence once it was brought to my attention."

"Brought to your attention by who?" 

He considered for a few moments - that was all he really had, before she became impatient, and he had to remember that he was cuffed and he had no understanding of how dangerous she was - and then made his decision. He would contemplate later how much of that choice had to do with the smouldering, secret anger that lay beneath his iron mask, and how much of him thought it was the rational thing to do. 

"Auror Evans."

The woman smiled wider, holding her hands together. She had stubby, squared fingers, not improved by her dainty rings. "Of course. Close friends, aren't you, Mr Snape?"

"The relationship has cooled," he said shortly. 

"So I should think, on your part, or you would not have volunteered her name so easily. But then, perhaps this is what comes of befriending a Death Eater. What a silly woman, to imagine she could achieve any level of companionship with you. Of course, there are sexual fanatics who desire the thought of taming dangerous criminals such as yourself, but one would think you wouldn't bring such desires into the workplace." She hummed. "And this woman is a Auror. All Aurors - and especially the Mudbloods - should know of your type. Put you in a narrow enough corner and I shouldn't think you care about anyone but yourself. We saw enough of that in the Death Eater trials." The woman's wide eyes and wider smile had become fixed now, her voice boring into him like a Muggle drill. "Would you say that that was accurate, Mr Snape?"

He kept his instinctual anger at her portrayal of Lily at a distance. It cooled remarkably quickly, perhaps because he too was upset with her, so he brought it closer to examine.

Such intense contempt of Lily was surprising. Was she merely attempting to provoke him? After all, their argument was incredibly recent, and very private. But then, the scorn in her voice sounded extremely real. He considered the witch in front of him - the flat eyes, the stubby fingers, and the kittens purring and squeaking from their frames. He thought that this was the sort of woman strongly inclined to spite. 

So she truly hated Lily, then. Was she merely utilising those feelings as a tool, hoping for him to lose his temper and slip up? Or did she somehow know about Severus and Lily's argument? 

"I couldn't tell you if she was a sexual fanatic or a bad Auror," he said, injecting as much boredom into his tone as possible. "It seems that I do not know her at all well," he added when her eyes narrowed, ensuring that the full strength of his bitterness came through. 

There. Now she would be under no illusions. He watched a slow, cunning triumph spread over her face. So she had guessed that he no longer felt so tied to her, then. Probably from his immediate betrayal of her name as she had said. She leaned forward.

"Do you think she was the one who spoke to the Prophet, Mr Snape?"

"I told her I would be happy to supply Veritaseum to the Ministry so that they could question her when she approached me about it," he said. "Her response …" he feigned contemplation. "I do not know if she was merely angry with me because of my history as a Death Eater and the ordeals she apparently suffered, or if she objected to the notion of Veritaseum." He of course knew that Lily had no reason to fear the truth potion, but then again, he wasn't _supposed_ to know that. Let this frilly woman think they had a common enemy. 

He supposed, considering Lily's recent words towards him, that they did. 

"Ordeals she apparently suffered?" the witch pushed. Her eyes were bright. He wondered if she wanted more information for strategic purposes, or if this was for her own sadistic pleasure.

"At the hands of the Ministry. Interrogation, she called it. She didn't offer details; she seemed very upset. A little hysterical," he added, watching the witch's face grow more smug at Lily's denigration. He decided to seize on the moment, reminded by the constant pressure on his wrists of his helpless state. "All I can really tell you is that she contacted me and essentially had a tantrum pertaining to the article and the suspicion it cast upon her. Is there more you wanted to know, or may I leave?"

The woman considered him slowly, blinking, but smiling all the while. "What about the binding spell made you think you are to be allowed to leave?"

"The fact that I am a free citizen made me think that I am to be allowed to leave."

She giggled again. "But you're not a free citizen, are you, Mr Snape? You are bound in service to the Ministry, and I seem to remember a ruling that a more severe and appropriate punishment will be applied if you are found within the service of the Dark Lord."

"I am not serving the Dark Lord."

"But you are serving his goals."

Severus could have pointed out that the woman had referred to Lily as a Mudblood in casual conversation, but he wasn't that stupid. So she wasn't concerned about blood purity - what else could she be speaking of? He frowned, hit with a sudden worry that this woman somehow knew about Herpo.

_Impossible._

It was supposed to be impossible for her to have kidnapped him in the first place, he reminded himself irritably. 

"Mr Snape?" she asked, in a voice that might have sounded gentle from another room. 

"Which goal am I being accused of serving?" he asked, making his voice neutral. Boredom was not appropriate. Neither was any sense of heightened emotion. 

Her face took on a shadowed, tight look. _"Werewolves,"_ she said, in hushed tones, "and the induction of half-breeds into common society." His eyebrows flew up before he could stop them; luckily, she seemed too captured in her monologue to notice. "They are dangerous creatures. They should not be armed with tools to be accepted." 

"You are referring to my research?"

"Your agenda," she said, face contorting. Severus recognised this sort of prejudice. It was immensely irrational, and easy to manipulate. The Dark Lord had had many supporters in people like these, and some even made it to the Death Eaters, although they didn't last particularly long.

He smiled thinly, leaning forward as much as he was able, and began speaking in a mockery of her fearful tone. "I myself had a horrific encounter with a werewolf when I was at Hogwarts," he said sorrowfully. "I understand your anxiety. Rather than arming them, my potion should _dis_arm them. They will be deprived of the murderous instincts and strengths of the feral werewolf, made helpless and passive."

Her stubby fingers twitched. "But they will use your potion as an argument that we should not fear them. They will ask for jobs, a place in society. I'm sure you understand that that cannot happen."

"That is only permissible should they be able to get their hands on the potion," he said dryly. "I highly doubt that they will be able to brew it. I can send you my notes, if you like. I am not sure how gifted a potioneer you are, but anyone could recognise the pure complexity of what I have created." Seeing that she remained unconvinced, he lowered his voice again. "It takes advanced, complicated magic to tame the instincts of such a dangerous creature. Whilst certain werewolves may be able, they will be highly inclined to potions or able to pay someone who is. The people able to access Wolfsbane will be wealthy and well-established, and strongly inclined to magic. Not the savage half-breeds of which we normal wizards worry." 

She considered him, and then flourished her wand. He jerked on instinct, but all it did was disable the cuffs; she met him with a smile that he trusted far less than her previous scowl.

"Let us drink," she said, still baring her teeth at him, "and speak. If you do not recognise me, I am a witch known as Dolores Umbridge." He stored the information. The name meant nothing to him, but he could do research later. "We can begin with your potion, and then lead onto Auror Evans, and then who knows what else might come up in our little chat. What would you like? Tea? Coffee? Pumpkin juice?"

"Tea is fine," he said, taking the mug. He had no desire of _drinking_ it, of course. He wondered if she was an Occlumens. 

If she was powerful enough to Occlude against him, he decided, he would have heard of her. He had a strong proficiency in mind magic, enough to fool the Dark Lord, and the Dark Lord was powerful indeed. Still, better to be careful: he probed so gently that she would brush it off, and sorted through her memories as daintily as he might hold her pretty china cup. It didn't take long to confirm from her memories that there was Veritaseum in his drink. This must have been the plan all along; to throw him off edge by treating him like a prisoner and reminding him how easily he could be sent to Azkaban, and then to attack once he was relieved and, hopefully, relaxed. He snorted. 

Her anti-werewolf doctrine seemed fairly ingrained, though. He wondered what would have happened if he hadn't managed to convince her that he was an enemy of werewolves. It was probably a question he could answer more intelligently once he had done some research on her as a person; not relevant in the present moment.

"May I have my wand?" he asked.

She smiled sweetly. "You're not among enemies here. You can collect it after we have spoken. Won't you drink?"

He stared at her - _how pathetically obvious_ \- but raised the cup. He tilted it slightly, ensuring that none of it touched his lips, and focused strongly. It had been a long time since he had used any wandless magic, but he should have enough to skim some liquid from the cup. Even ordinary wizards could probably do that much, with some concentration.

Sure enough, the liquid began to dissipate. He wondered mildly if it was evaporating. It was lucky that he didn't wear glasses; steam would be suspicious. Once enough liquid to make it look like he had taken a sip was gone, he put it down, letting his eyes take on a glazed look. She smiled triumphantly.

"What are your reasons for making the potion concerned with werewolves, Mr Snape?"

_How stupid to assume a Potions master wouldn't be able to falsify Veritaseum symptoms._

"I am afraid of werewolves," he said, in the nasal, droning voice she would expect. "They are dangerous and impure creatures. Now I am free from the Dark Lord, I do not have to pander to his allies, and I can create a potion that will subdue them."

"What is your relationship to Auror Evans?"

"I loved her, but she betrayed me. I no longer feel kindly towards her, but I do not wish to take revenge out of respect for our old relationship." That answer was almost entirely true, he thought. 

Perhaps he _would_ take revenge. He thought that Idina would want him to. But he imagined nothing so cruel as he thought Dolores Umbridge would want, if only because that would be what Lily expected. Perhaps this would persuade her to leave him out of any vendetta she had against his former friend. He would be more than content to watch it from the sidelines, in which case he could also assume the moral high ground necessary to counter Lily's accusations.

He banished thoughts of that at once. He might be tempted to smile if he continued pondering it, and Umbridge would notice.

"Did Auror Evans tell the Daily Prophet that the investigation into your partner was cancelled, Mr Snape?"

"I don't know."

"How do you feel about the cancelled investigation?"

"I am worried about Idina and Megaera, and myself if the murderer is to be left at large."

Umbridge paused to make a note of something, and then looked up again. "Are you loyal to the Ministry, Mr Snape?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I am thankful for my second chance and new life."

Even through his glazed eyes, he saw Dolores Umbridge smile.

As he Apparated from outside the Ministry building - with his wand - he felt a sense of victory course through him. He had foiled their plan, and they didn't even know it. Now, the Ministry would have absolute faith in him, and Umbridge might even view him as a potential ally, at least as long he kept up the pretence. That would be trying, but he was sure that he could make it worth his while. It was all he could do to keep from whooping. 

That said, there was still much to think on. He had to make a decision about Lily. And he had to find out how Dolores Umbridge had been able to successfully assault him in the first place. Just as pressingly, he needed to free Idina from Herpo's control. But this win had instilled him with confidence. 

He opened his front door (you couldn't Apparate into his house, of course, you had to go to the street) and immediately pulled out his wand.

The corridor was lined with portraits.


	30. Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus and Idina's progress is impeded by an argument.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry about the shorter chapter - I've been very unwell this week. Hopefully I can write the rest of what I was planning for this week a little earlier than next weekend.
> 
> I've been over this and can't find any mistakes but my mind is a little more scattered than usual!

"Be still, Severus," said Idina. "They are all friends."

He lowered his wand, but did not walk any further. "May I ask why you have decorated my house with these – friends?”

She laughed. "They wanted walls. These are the nicer members of my family, but they remain very proud." She took his hand and led him forward. "I kept additional portraits of certain people who I might consult for advice or friendship, so that I would not have to do so in front of the rest of my family. You have to remember," she added hastily, as if only just realising that most people had friends other than portraits, "that until Caspian and Megaera - and you - I had no-one.”

"I am not judging you," he said gently. Idina flushed a little, and continued so quickly that he knew not to push. 

"If the colder members of my family believed me to be too weak, they might judge me an unworthy heir, and you know of the fate of such a person. At least, they might exploit the worries I confessed to others. So I kept these in other rooms; I would have asked you before moving them here, but it occurred to me that they might be useful to ask about the curse. I wrote down everything they can remember about it; we can study the later. How was your meeting with Lily?”

He grimaced. “It turned into two meetings, and the first one did not go at all well. Could you put on some tea?”

She did so quickly, and then the two of them settled down on his sofa. Megaera was playing with a chess-board. He thought that Idina might have attempted to teach her how to play while waiting for him to return, but if that was the case, it had failed. She was treating the pieces more like dolls, mumbling dialogue in between the king and queen. He hid a smile. 

“Well?” Idina asked expectantly. 

“The meeting with Lily was – painful. It seems she harbours a bitterness towards me that I have never suspected or known, and that her efforts to rebuild our friendship were motivated by either external principles, a hope for gain, or Dumbledore. I expect all three. Regardless, the Ministry interrogated her about the article, and it was the last straw.”

Idina’s lips were pursed. “What did she say?”

Severus hoped she couldn’t tell how tense his jaw was. His voice, thankfully, remained neutral. “I can show you a Pensieve memory, if you want. It might actually help me to move on from it to watch as an observer. More importantly, I left only to be kidnapped by a Ministry official.”

Idina raised an eyebrow. “A Dolores Umbridge?”

“How did you know?”

“She sent a letter,” said Idina, casting it towards him, “and I was curious. I did some preliminary research. Ambitious, and an attitude towards blood and magical creatures that might raise eyebrows in certain sectors of the Ministry. Not a nice woman, from what I gathered.” 

“I also received those impressions,” said Severus, casting his mind back to the eerie woman. “But that ambition and ruthlessness could be useful when played to our favour. Did the letter indicate that that might be a possibility?”

“She certainly seemed very impressed with you,” said Idina. “When you say ‘kidnapped’-“

“I mean kidnapped,” said Severus dryly. “I think it was more of a power play than anything, but she tried to give me Veritaseum. I pretended to drink it; hopefully, the lies I fed her will earn her trust.”

“I want both the memories, assuming you are not hurt,” said Idina crisply, rising to her feet. “You can put them in a Pensieve while I bath Megaera. And then –“ she gave him a searching look which made him sure that his neutral voice had not fooled her at all – “we will talk.”

Severus read Megaera to sleep as Idina viewed the memories, more Muggle fairytales that were just as grotesque as Beedle the Bard. He imagined his mother would be more inclined to these than the pretty Disney versions if she had ever tried to read to him. Tom Thumb was safely home by the time Idina resurfaced from the Pensieve; her lips were very thin, and thinned still when she saw that he was matching her expression.

“Your argument with Lily-“

“Is secondary to reading Dolores’ letter, and certainly secondary to reading the notes you made on Herpo’s curse.”

“Will you be able to treat it as such?”

“Of course. If you will hand me the notes, I will read them at once. The more information we have about the curse, the better chance of breaking it.”

Idina scowled. “Will you at least speak about it with Clarissa tomorrow?”

Severus glared. “Of course. It is her job.”

“Then why did you flinch when I said it?”

Severus ground his jaw. “Stop being ridiculous. This is _none_ of your concern-“

Idina crossed her arms over her chest, extending her arms so overdramatically that he stopped talking. “We are romantically involved, and you just read my daughter to sleep,” she said, in a voice you could chip ice from. “How am I supposed to take your refusal to discuss the pain that Lily’s rejection brings you as _none of my concern?”_

Severus’ eyes flashed. “What, this is to satisfy your own petty jealousy?”

“I am more worried about how much this has distressed you and that it evidently occupies your mind-“

“-because you are forcing it to-“

“-but yes, as your lover, I think I have right to worry about those in the past, if they so affect your present!"

Severus’ lip curled. “There was absolutely nothing about Lily and I’s relationship that was romantic.”

“Not for your lack of trying, I seem to remember.”

“I did not try. It was not worth trying.” 

“So she will not return it, and would never have.” Idina tossed her hair, eyes bright with anger and something he imagined to be scorn. “And so? Do you think that I want a _pale imitation_ of love either, Severus?”

That she had the nerve to quote him relit some of the anger already smoking. “Do I question your loyalty to me because of your lingering feelings for Caspian?” he asked, coldly as he could, and he knew that it was childish, but he also knew that it would hurt.

It did. Idina’s face had gone white. “Don’t speak of what you don’t understand.”

“A lesson we could both learn, it seems," he said, voice brittle. He clenched his jaw, and then unclenched it. "May I have the notes you made on your family?”

Idina’s face was still pale, but it turned stony, and Severus thought for a moment that she might refuse. But she cast _Gemini_ and handed a copy to Severus, sitting in one of the meagre armchairs instead of back on the sofa. 

That was fine with him.


	31. Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus and Idina make a breakthrough, and he has an appointment with Clarissa that ends with a surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the other half of the chapter that I was wanting to post! Sorry that it has been somewhat disordered this week. As with Chapter 30, I don't believe there are any mistakes but I am less vigilant than usual!

Other than a few intervals with Megaera, they worked in absolute silence. Severus considered himself a master of working efficiently even amidst strong emotions, but Idina was clearly adept at it as well. He had never seen someone so focused yet so evidently angry. 

The notes she had given him were ordered by time, and they had agreed that the curse definitely dated back to Herpo's lifetime. Severus thought it was extremely likely that he had been the one that had invented it, but they couldn't possibly track through all the research Herpo the Foul had done in hopes of a hint. He was sure that people would have _remembered_ this spell, too, unique and powerful as it was, and the twisted old man had never been anything short of a braggart. Why had Severus never come across it, in all of his extensive study of the Dark Arts? He had always assumed that Idina's family were partially responsible in keeping it secret, but how did one hide black bones? The number of deaths over the years were extraordinary. Many of them were powerful and influential people, and the curse had no discretion. It often struck in public. From what he gathered from his notes, it was usually treated as a Dark Arts spell (one that Idina's ancestors were often blamed for casting.) It seemed that in two and a half thousand years, nobody had bothered investigating. It hardly restored Severus' faith in the justice system.

"Severus," said Idina. Her voice was clipped. 

"Yes?"

"Have you looked at what my great-aunt Mathilde remembered?"

He turned over the page, scanned for Mathilde, and winced at the account he was immediately presented with. "The description of what happened to her mother when she was deemed unworthy?"

Idina's eyes flickered. Severus imagined that the document was turning her mind over to her own childhood and the death and insanity of her father, but he was sure that any attempts at sympathy would not be welcome in her current mood. "I wasn't talking about that," she said. "The note at the end, a description of a morning when three men attempted to assassinate her in order to take control of the family - more notably, the family's finances."

He examined the account. Mathilde had been on her way to buy some new dress robes when three hooded figures came out and struck her. One immediately fell to his death, and then Idina's great-aunt (who Severus didn't want to get on the wrong side of, even as a portrait) duelled the other two and won using a combination of astonishingly Dark curses. Severus wondered that writing them all down in sequence hadn't blistered the page. When Mathilde went to remove the hoods and identify the men, the man who had first fallen had black bones. 

"Well?" asked Idina impatiently. 

"I don't understand," Severus admitted. "Why didn't the curse affect all of them?"

"That's why I brought attention to it," she snapped.

He rolled his eyes and continued reading. Mathilde had been taken to trial for her use of the curses, which were Dark enough to raise questions even when used in self-defence. (Mathilde said that the blackened bones and deterioration of the rest of the corpse must have been a reaction between two of the curses - a theory that, to Severus' disgust, was accepted.) The third man had been identified only through examination of letters belonging to the other two. He was a distant and impoverished cousin who had been hoping to take control of the family money by killing Mathilde, as Idina had said. Her reputation as a Dark and powerful witch had caused him to find two skilled wizards as allies, promising to split the money with them once he had hold of it. In the end, Mathilde was allowed to go free with a fine, her lawyers using the defence that the men had clearly been well aware that she might resort to such means.

"When you first told me of the curse, the people you said that died in your lifetime were those that attempted to gain control of the family too," he said. "Is it that the curse targets those who would attempt to assume the position as family head? That would fit Herpo's obsession with worthy heirs."

"But that doesn't make sense," Idina argued. "There are other people that were affected that didn't have that motive. In 1838, Lloyd Rosier attempted to duel one of my ancestors over an insult. He cast the first spell and immediately died."

"Is it possible that he was inwardly hoping for your ancestor's position through the duel?"

Idina frowned. "But Andromache was the head of the family, and she wasn't the one duelling. It was her brother Ajax. It may have been a duel in which some assets were promised to the victor, but enough to claim ownership of the family would be unusual." She shook her head. "No, it can't be. I'm not even sure that the Rosiers have enough relation to us for a blood claim. There are other examples too - look here. Lucinda Nighthawk tried to have my great-great-grandmother's cousin executed for dragon smuggling. The executioner died and as the cousin fled, she cast a spell at his back and died too … in 1920, a Gaunt attempted to rob my grandfather, and then he was tried for unnecessary use of the Dark Arts because the boy's bones turned black …"

A thought flashed through Severus, quick and startling as lightning. "Do you have Pureblood family trees here?"

"I have ours," said Idina. "Minnie could fetch it. Why, do you have an idea?"

"I think so. Do you know who the executioner was?" 

Idina frowned, spoke to Minnie, and then got up. Severus followed her to the portrait of a haughty-looking woman with a downturned mouth and a tower of piled up, auburn hair. "Nana Helen?" 

Nana Helen turned down to look at her. "Yes, dear?" she rumbled. She had a very throaty voice, and wouldn't stop stroking the enormous diamond necklace she had been painted in, but Severus thought he saw genuine affection in her eyes. 

"Do you remember the executioner for your cousin?"

Nana Helen sniffed. "Hardly. Not a particularly remarkable boy. He was a Daycross - an old Pureblood family. I daresay inbreeding and lack of sense have put an end to them now. Terrible bone structure. The boy in question, I seem to remember, had a dalliance with a Muggle girl, which is why he was working at the Ministry. Even Daycrosses didn't put up with _that_ sort of thing, not in my day." 

"Was your family related to the Daycross family in any way?" asked Severus. 

Nana Helen looked at Severus as if she was rather affronted that he had spoken to her, but answered his question. "Well, like most Pureblood families, there were certainly connections. There was a marriage between a Damilia Daycross and a cousin of a cousin, I think. I went to the wedding. A very pretty venue, but her robes were _frightfully_ gaudy, and the cake tasted like sawdust. You would have thought the jam was dried glue. Idina, did I ever tell you about the afterparty? Festus Malfoy was there, and-"

"Later, Nana," Idina said gently. She turned to Severus. "What are you thinking?"

"I think," said Severus, "that the curse operates on blood. That is why so many of the deaths have been people trying to take over the family; because they would need to be related to you in order to have a claim. Of course, it is only a theory-"

"One we can check when Minnie returns with the tapestry," said Idina. "It would explain why certain people are affected if we can see that those certain people are somehow related to my family."

"Where is Minnie?" Severus asked. He had never known her to take so long carrying out an order.

"She might be struggling to find it. I don't display it or anything. It's a horrid, outdated thing, and it wouldn't fit with the house."

Nana Helen's portrait sniffed. "I did _say_ to Leopold not to get it in that horrendous colour. It was all the rage then, you know. Lady Morningstar had these robes that everyone thought were simply splendid - _I_ always thought them a little dumpy - but really, I said, it's one thing to have robes in a colour, and quite another to embroider your family tree on it and pass it down for generations. I did always think Leopold _far_ too fond of Lady Morningstar, though, to tell you the truth. It did upset Allison; I told her not to worry, and it wasn't _really_ a lie, because I just couldn't see it myself. She had a blotchy face." She patted her own cheeks complacently. "But I suppose you two have other things to be getting on with. Well done, dears. I daresay blood doesn't count for everything after all." Her eyes were fixed on Severus with something that might have been approval. He didn't respond. He could easily imagine her portrait gossiping about he and Idina's argument to her descendants centuries after they were gone.

The thought was dizzying, so he returned to the living room. He and Idina shared a few tense words about Helen before Minnie thankfully appeared with the tapestry. It was enormous, a deep maroon colour that might have been vibrant when Leopold-who-was-in-love-with-Lady-Morningstar had decided on it, and hundreds of names inscribed in tiny silver letters. It was far too big for Severus' living room floor, so they rolled out as much of it that would go and analysed it section by section. 

"Lucinda Nighthawk isn't on here," said Severus critically. "The others are, though. But one exception-" 

Idina flicked her wand so that they were looking at almost the very top of the tapestry. "No, I saw here - there it is! One of my ancestors married a Darius Nighthawk in 1323." 

"Would that be enough?"

"She'd be carrying our blood in her veins," Idina said firmly, "and that would be enough for most blood magic. I believe your theory. What do you think we should do next?"

"The curse dates back to Herpo, if the portraits are to be believed, and that makes him our prime suspect as inventor," said Severus. "He created an astonishing amount of spells, but at least now we know that it is blood magic. That should narrow it down. We need to research and see what fits."

Idina nodded, and rose. "I will put on some coffee, and instruct Minnie to go search my personal libraries. You look through yours. Hopefully, we will not need to borrow any books with our combined resources. It would arouse suspicion. And Severus-"

"Yes?"

"Your help is appreciated," she said, meeting his eyes in a way she had been avoiding doing. "Thank you."

He thought that his shoulders were a little lighter as he stepped towards his bookshelf. 

He could not have been more exhausted walking towards Clarissa's office. 

Even with the restriction of blood magic in place, Herpo had invented far too many spells to look through in an evening, which they had learnt the hard way. Many of the enchantments neither Severus nor Idina had heard of. Considering his interest in the Dark Arts and the fact that Idina was a literal spell inventor by profession, it had not been good for morale. Neither had the devastating effects of the curses themselves. They had gone to bed that night exhausted, and though things between them were certainly softer, he could not help but notice a greater distance between them when they finally fell asleep. 

He regretted mentioning Caspian, now. He thought she regretted pushing him about Lily. They weren't talking about it, however. He was sure that Clarissa would have several fascinating insights on that.

Well aware of the potential consequences of being seen intently studying blood spells in the Ministry, Severus hadn't brought any books with him. Idina was at home with Megaera, and she had said she was going to try and get some more done. That chafed, too. Severus wished he wasn't tethered to this humiliating job and the stupid hours in this ugly building with people who hated him. He wanted to live as Idina did, with free time to pursue whatever she wanted and influential clients and friends. The novelty of his conditional forgiveness had worn off. He was tired of it. 

He shook his head irritably, ignoring a young wizard in the corridor that squeaked and turned around at the gesture. It wouldn't do to speak to Clarissa in such a state of mind. 

She welcomed him in as pleasantly and neutrally as always. "Good morning, Severus. Thank you for arriving on time. How have you been this week? Is there anything you wish to discuss?"

"Yes," he said, sitting down. With Clarissa, it was best to cut to the chase. "I had an argument with Lily, which led to an argument with Idina."

Her eyebrow arched, which was generally the most emotion she would show in a meeting. He appreciated that he didn't have to fear her reactions. "What was your argument with Lily about?"

"There was a report on the handling of the investigation into who attempted to murder Idina in _the Daily Prophet._ Lily apparently received extensive questioning as a result because of her connection to me."

"Oh, yes," Clarissa murmured. Severus resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He'd forgotten how thorough her grasp of general gossip was.

"It seemed to be a last straw. She confessed many grievances with me, several of which were years old, to express how _difficult_ it is to remain friends with me." He didn't bother trying to keep the anger and pain out of his voice; Clarissa would drag it out soon enough, and he didn't think he could, anyway. Not when talking about it.

It _hurt._ It hurt to an extent that he knew he would deny to everyone. This much pain was beyond unhealthy, it was embarrassing.

"I see," said Clarissa, making a note. "Well, that's a very dangerous complex to develop, and you need to reject that idea completely. It's not that you should begin underestimating the impact your actions can have on others; that it also dangerous, for those around you as well as yourself, and will undo all of our previous work. But you shouldn't internalise the view that you are inherently hard to love or care about, either."

"She's not wrong."

"It seems that we're having this discussion too late," said Clarissa, writing some more. He bristled, but she moved swiftly on as always. "Why do you not think she is wrong?"

"It's true that I am a difficult person to care about. It was difficult for my mother. I don't think my father particularly tried, and neither did anyone else. I always thought that she was different because of some inherent purity or kindness." He kept his eyes fixed on an abstract piece of artwork on the wall. It was new. "My idealisation of her was - childish. It seems that she was just perseverant. Or naïve. And as an adult …" he made a gesture. "I think Dumbledore put her up to it." 

"So your parents didn't care about you," said Clarissa. He scowled, thankful though he was that she had disregarded what he said about Lily. "We've spoken about them both, of course, and I believe we've also spoken extensively on the different ways it can damage a child. I apologise for not picking up on this one sooner."

"And what is 'this one'?"

"You are not inherently any more difficult to love than any other person."

"I did not say it was inherent. I said that it was true. I am disagreeable. Even you cannot deny that. And my actions-"

"We are talking about your parents," said Clarissa firmly. "They first knew you when you were a _baby,_ Severus. Have you heard of the expression _tabula rasa_ before?"

He shook his head. He didn't trust himself to speak. 

"It is a Muggle psychological concept. It means _blank slate._ It argues that when we are born, we have no innate qualities, and we develop those that are nurtured."

"That isn't true. I was born with intelligence, for example. It wasn't nurtured; I wasn't given books or additional lessons like other children, at least not until Hogwarts."

"While it is difficult to speak in absolutes," said Clarissa, "and we can debate whether we are born with particular traits or learn them, nobody is born with the trait 'unlovable.' That is false. As a baby, you had not committed any of the actions that might make it difficult to love you now. Babies are not _disagreeable,_ either."

He thought suddenly of Megaera, and tried to ignore the way it seemed to make his throat contract. It was almost impossible to imagine neglecting a baby now that he loved one. He imagined her enduring his own childhood, or Idina's, and it made his heart clench in an anger entirely separate than that which he felt towards Lily. He focused on a different area of the picture.

"It is, of course, understandable that a child who was or felt unloved might believe themselves to be," Clarissa continued. "Precisely for the reason that they have been treated as unlovable before they could do any wrong, they can view themselves in this way. And it is also understandable that what Lily said to you would play on this belief you have, but it is incredibly debilitating to self esteem and will negatively affect any relationship that you try to build."

The picture had gone out of focus.

"I suggest that you make a table."

"A table?" he repeated, startled into speaking.

"Yes," said Clarissa. "Do you believe Lily's words were wholly unfair?"

"Yes," he said, glaring at her. "You have no knowledge of what she said. Why take her side?"

"I am not taking sides," said Clarissa gently. "Like you said, I do not have the knowledge to do so. Very well; it wasn't fair. Do you believe Lily's words were ludicrous? Do you think, if you didn't already have this internalised belief which makes you sensitive to such accusations, that you'd find them laughable?" 

_"Yes."_

Clarissa surveyed him. "You said that you thought she was speaking the truth. Surely that implies that there is some sense to what she said?"

"And you said that I said that because of a complex!"

"Not entirely," said Clarissa, fixing him with a sharp look. "You mentioned some of your previous actions, did you not? Unlike your parents, Lily knows you _now._ Presumably yourself in the present was mentioned in the conversation?"

He glowered. "Yes."

"Well then," said Clarissa. "For next week, why don't you write me two lists? One of things she said that you found unfair, and one of things that you thought were fair or at least understandable. Hopefully, it should allow you to begin balancing negating those harmful internal views, while also not desensitising you to how you can hurt or damage others. We can discuss them in more detail." 

Severus curled his lip. He resented being set _homework_ from his Mind Healer, but she often asked him to complete small tasks during the rest of the week. _"You don't heal for one hour every Monday, Severus," she would say, if he complained._

"Very well," he assented, when he realised she was waiting for an answer. 

"Excellent. And why did you conflict with Idina?"

Severus swallowed. "She wants me to be transparent with her about Lily. Partly from concern, partly from jealousy, I think." 

Clarissa nodded. "And do you have romantic feelings towards Lily?"

"Not since Regulus," said Severus. He was proud that his voice did not stumble over his name.

"Well, you have little to fear from being open, then," said Clarissa. She smiled. "Wouldn't you agree?"

"In theory." 

"Why not in practice?"

"I find the thought of discussing it with her very difficult. There are many sensitive topics involved."

Clarissa regarded him, and he thought that she was going to push, but she ducked her head and turned to a new page of notes in a way that he knew meant the discussion was finished. "After you've written your lists, why don't you talk to her about them? That will allow you to communicate your feelings clearly, and hopefully you will feel a little more armed." 

"I will try."

"I look forward to hearing about it. Now, why don't we talk a little more on the memories we started on last week?" 

Severus left his meeting with Clarissa feeling drained, but not much more than usual. He felt less stressed about Idina, too; now that it was gone, he could fully comprehend how anxious he had felt about their argument. Disagreements were not just painful. In the situation they were in, they could be fatal.

_I wonder what advice Clarissa would give me about Herpo._

He shook the thought away. He might trust her, but he barely knew her. This information could not be given out to anyone. 

He forced his thoughts onto work, not wanting to contemplate Herpo in the workplace. It was unlikely that someone would be able to read his thoughts, but you never knew when Dumbledore was lurking about. He wondered what he might be required to brew today. His meeting with the test subjects was scheduled for tomorrow, so he wanted to prepare. Hopefully, Hannah could handle the majority of the workload. 

He went to unlock the handle, but the door was already slightly ajar.

Was Hannah in early?

_Hannah is never in early._

He drew his wand. If it was her, then she wouldn't be particularly offended. He doubted that she'd notice. 

"Planning an ambush, Sev?" 

He met Lily's eyes. Potter was there too, examining an empty cauldron. Black was standing there and exuding arrogance. He noted the absence of the wolf. 

"Considering that you are in my lab, I'd say that 'ambush' is a more appropriate descriptor of you," he said, moving forward to the tray where people put in Potions requests. It wasn't in a position where he'd have to turn his backs to them.

A batch of Potions for soothing migraines, he noted. He could do with one himself. "Is there a reason you have come here?" 

"We're under _internal investigation,"_ said Lily. "The same people who told us to drop the case are using us as convenient scapegoats of it. The papers are playing up all of our history. We're being accused of trying to sabotage you and Idina's _lives."_

Severus wondered if this had anything to do with Dolores Umbridge. At least, she had to be getting a good giggle out of it. 

"If you're under internal investigation," he said snidely, "I would do your work instead of lurking around the office of the man you've recently been accused of endangering." 

Lily's eyes flashed. "They also pulled me up on some things that _only you_ knew about. What, this is revenge for what I said?"

"I was put in handcuffs and sat in front of a Ministry official," said Severus, wondering in the same breath whether he should be disclosing such information. He supposed that the Ministry wouldn't suffer much of a PR problem if it got out. It wasn't as if he had many backers, and they themselves were currently painting him as a hapless victim if Lily was telling the truth. "What would you have liked me to do?"

"Stayed loyal to your friend," said Black, face contorted in disgust. "Not squeal like a pig at the first hint of danger. _Coward."_

"We weren't friends, as of that very morning," said Severus pleasantly. Lily flinched. "And - between you and me - I could have tried a little harder to keep it quiet." He let some contempt, bitter and cruel, seep into his voice. "I suppose it was revenge, after all."

"You're awfully mouthy when you're one person against three fully trained Aurors," said Potter, lip curled. Black's head jerked. Severus smiled, realising at once what he was worried about.

"And you're _incredibly_ mouthy for someone under internal investigation for attempting to sabotage my life, as Lily put it. That sounded like a threat, Potter. Wouldn't that make an excellent Pensieve memory for your superiors?" 

Potter's mouth twisted. "Under internal investigation or not, we're Aurors, Snape. We can _dig._ We just wanted to come in and tell you that it's begun. An investigation for an investigation."

Severus looked at Lily, a sense of amusement overcoming the rest of his emotions for the time being. "I thought you didn't like revenge?"

"It's not revenge if I can prove it in court," said Lily stubbornly. "It's justice. And you're going to get it like you should have done."

He didn't respond. His mind was too busy whirling, wondering what they might try to prove. He believed that Lily wouldn't completely falsify an investigation and a trial, even if Black would be more than happy and Potter would go along with it. So what did they hope to pin on him?

He might have asked more questions, but his most hated enemies and oldest friend had already left the room.


	32. Allocation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Idina progresses in her research, and Severus makes a startling discovery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: a very brief mention of kidnapping/torture/child abuse, and Dark magic as per usual
> 
> My updates might be more frequent thanks to the self isolation!

Severus returned to his house with his mind still chafing at the thought of what _an investigation for an investigation_ might mean. He might have made more progress if he was less bitter, both about the fact that the investigation was far more to do with whoever was investigating them than him anyway, and Lily in general.

He opened the door and smiled faintly, the scene driving thoughts of the Marauders out of his mind. Idina was writing feverishly , her fingers stained with ink and her hair coming loose, wearing an enormous black jumper and _Muggle leggings._ He wondered if anybody had ever seen Idina Brass in leggings before. 

_Maybe Caspian._

He scowled at himself. That sort of thought was helpful for neither of them. 

She blinked, and then smiled, stretching out her hand to lessen the cramp. "Sorry, Severus, I lost track of time. I meant to put on tea for you."

"It's of no consequence. Now we can have it together, and you can tell me what you're working on." Severus looked around his living room, which was now utterly dishevelled, covered in books and paper on almost every surface. "Have you found something?"

"I think I've found _it,"_ said Idina, and her eyes took on a sheen that he recognised in himself. "If I'm right - if it's true - it's _beautiful."_

"The spell?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. He wasn't sure that _beautiful_ was the right word, but again, he could recognise this mood in himself. Even the deadliest of potions, if ingenious enough, could delight him. "You know what it is?" 

"Well," said Idina, eyes sparkling, "it's hard to tell for sure if I am right. I think it was a _mistake."_

Severus frowned. "A mistake?" he repeated.

Idina nodded excitedly. "It happens all the time in spell invention. Magic is so unpredictable - to try and wield it in a very precise way, like he was trying to do, is very difficult. Especially when you take into account how little study had been done into the nature of magic itself when he was inventing." She began overturning the piles of paper on the desk. Severus winced. It was clear that she worked in a far less organised manner than him. "I was looking through some biographical accounts, hoping they might let me know if there was a particular period of time I should look for when researching blood magic, when I came across _this."_

She thrust a page at him. He took it, and read,

_Herpo [the Foul] was notably image-conscious, fanatically delighted by his own power, and perhaps one can argue that such a genius, despite his twisted nature, deserved to be. It was more of an insecure egotism than a true confidence in his own abilities, however, and therefore a double-edged sword; in his late thirties, he was forced to flee from Attica after an extended rampage in which he employed several extraordinarily cruel hexes against a series of family members and unfortunate innocents. Herpo maintained that he was testing the spells, but as all of them had been invented several years prior to the incident, both contemporary and modern critics have viewed this as yet another symptom of his fantastic pride. His aunt insisted that Herpo had been flung into a rage by what he called 'his great failure.'_

_While nobody knows what Herpo had attempted, his brother uncovered a chamber in which Herpo had been keeping both his notes and his children. Two sons and a daughter were chained to a wall, where they were (physically) unharmed, despite being drained several times of blood. Herpo's notes indicated a desire to afford the family head the power to inflict death upon those who opposed them, writing 'it would allow us … to rise to our true place, assuming I can make preparations for my true heir to follow me. The spell should also allow for this, attacking feeble and weak minds ... allowing the strong to triumph.' It is widely thought that this 'true heir' was his nephew, Daedalus, who was noted for an extremely agile mind. (Some have contested this, citing young Daedalus' weakness of character.)_

_What exactly went wrong with the spell is not known. At least thirteen of his family members, who reportedly attempted to raise their wands to him when he began the attack, turned into black-boned corpses. This spell was never mentioned in his writings, so many have suggested that this was indeed 'his great failure.' What exactly meant that this spell had '[failed]', however, is unknown._

He scanned through the paragraphs, immediately catching the relevant details. "It's certainly the spell," he murmured, eyes alight. "The black bones - and 'attacking feeble minds' - that would fit the visions and insanity those judged unworthy are afflicted with. And Atalanta mentioned a failure. But what was it? What went wrong?"

Idina smiled, apparently so pleased with herself that she didn't react to Atalanta's name. "The blood magic. I don't work with it often - it's very unpredictable, and often clumsy, as I think Herpo has managed to demonstrate - but I can recognise what went wrong. Instead of simply tying the power to the head of the family-"

"-he tied the actual curse to the blood, so it can only affect those of his family," Severus finished, mind racing. He knew about blood magic - not much about inventing blood spells, but he trusted Idina - and this sounded plausible. "Which is why the power doesn't shift so it is under the control of the head, as he meant it to, but exists as an external force that works on your behalf, and often against your will." He tilted his head. "I'm not sure I'd call it a great failure. It's still very useful for keeping family members in line, and has come in handy against opposition throughout your history."

"Hence his use of it now," said Idina, closing the book in satisfaction, "not that he _could_ reverse it from his portrait, anyway. But from my knowledge of him, I agree with the book's assessment of his character. He would take any mistake, however useful, as an attack on his intelligence." She snorted. "Ridiculous. The beauty of spell invention is working _with_ the magic, letting it take you." 

"Is that what you're doing?" Severus asked, casting an eye over her notes. They were barely legible considering how fast she was writing, and lots of it was mostly communicated through sketches or symbols, but he could make out some words.

She nodded, smile widening. "Now that I know what the spell is, I can try and design a counter-curse. I'm not sure how long it will take, but if I can destroy the blood magic binding the power, I will be free, and so will Megaera, and if she has children, they will be as well." She clapped her hands. "I found some more information quite easily, now that I know what it is. I'm getting to grips with the theory so I can attempt to estimate how the spell was crafted. But come - I could do with a break. How was your day?"

He exited to the kitchen with her, setting the kettle boiling with a flick of his wand. "Mixed. I had a meeting with Clarissa. She gave me a task that might help me clear my mind about Lily. When I have finished it, I can hopefully discuss it with you." 

She met his eyes, and he was startled to see open emotion in them. Trust, and relief, and kindness. "Thank you. I - I am glad." Her voice was soft in a way that made him think she had been genuinely hurt by his refusal to talk about it with her, but she was smiling honestly. She seemed to have forgiven him completely.

He turned suddenly so she wouldn't see him flush - his natural reaction to the sudden intimacy was to recoil - and fetched the teabags by hand, so that he had something to do. He could sense that she was a little amused by this, but he trusted her not to mention it. "I made preparations for my meeting with the test subjects tomorrow. And I had an interesting run-in with Potter, Black and Lily."

Idina frowned. "What happened?"

"They promised an _investigation for an investigation."_ Her frown deepened. "What that means, I have no idea. But don't worry about that - I know them, and you are able to counter Herpo's spell where I am not. At least, you have far more expertise. Allow me to deal with them, and the investigation into the threshold spell now that the Aurors have abandoned it, so that you can focus on your task. It should be your top priority, and my undertakings will be far easier."

Idina arched an eyebrow. "Doing the investigation in place of the Aurors will be far easier?"

Severus smiled, knowing that it was sharp at the edges. "Of course. I have a plan."

*

He didn't dare slip into Shacklebolt's office and fetch a new vial. He wasn't meant to be at the Ministry at this time of night, and as Aurors, the Marauders could easily watch it, internal investigation or no. And the department had requested it of him a few more times, which suggested to Severus that they found it valuable and were likely controlling the stock.

He smiled thinly. Even if it was helping people that personally disliked him or thought of him as an enemy, it was nice to be appreciated.

That meant rebrewing it, then. That was fine, he thought, beginning with the Boomslang Skin. This was hardly the most complex potion he had ever invented, useful though it was. At least, in this context. It was what it had been created for, after all.

He began work on a Mind-Strengthening Potion by the side. He had invented this potion to track down Theodore Nott, and Hector Bones had known both his face and his name very well. Severus, on the other hand, was searching for a nameless intruder. He was at strong risk of doing exactly what he had warned Hector about - focusing on Idina, rather than his enemy, because he simply did not know his enemy very well. He would have to work hard to attach his concentration to a being that the potion would understand.

But it would. It was _his_ invention, and that made it capable of doing the impossible. He watched as the Mind-Strengthening Potion simmered. 

The night passed in a blur of leaping minds. He knew that Idina was next door, still scratching her genius into the parchment, although he thought about it little. It was good practice, and besides, love made his hand less steady than he would have liked. He knew that they were working in concert, ensuring their future. He knew that to that end, he was in here, doing what he had been born to do.

_Fuck_ tabula rasa, he thought.

On the stroke of midnight, he poked his head into the living room to tell Idina that he was doing it. She said something unintelligible but reassuring, still scribbling.

Then he picked up the vial of the Memory-Based Tracker Potion, and swallowed. 

For a split second, he allowed himself to consider Idina lying in the hospital bed. Megaera dead. His own life gone, second chance ruined. And before the potion could grasp onto any of that, he snatched the hatred and anger those thoughts provoked and channelled them towards the culprit. He could not give the potion a face or a name, but he _could_ focus on vengeance. He could focus on his fury that someone had dared do that to them, that someone had tried, and hope that it would force the potion to find his faceless enemy.

Reality shuddered and bucked, and for a moment he thought that it wouldn't work. But then, he found himself somewhere else entirely.

The room was sticky with filth. Some feeble attempts at disinfection had been made - around a sofa piled with blankets, which Severus assumed was where the culprit was sleeping, and a rickety table and chairs that held two darkened figures. Severus stalked round the room as cautiously as he could, hoping to catch a look at their faces or a hint from their surroundings.

As he travelled around the room, he came to the conclusion that wherever they were had once belonged to someone wealthy, although it had been abandoned for a long time. The furniture was clearly ancient, but it was just as clearly valuable, he noted. He looked around the walls. He could see faded tapestries and paintings, objects that he could feel Dark magic from even in his illusion, and a lot of silver and gold. There was a mahogany cupboard which was clearly infested with Doxies. He peered inside; it seemed they were feeding on a rotting Boggart corpse.

At least the person wasn't living a life of luxury.

Happy with his inspection of the place, he turned around to face the figures at the table, and recoiled. The light was dim, but he was unmistakeable.

_Peter Pettigrew._

And the man next to him-

"Go fish," said Potter, smirk arrogant as always. Peter huffed and whined.

The card game continued without conversation for a minute or so. Severus ground his teeth, almost shaking in fury. He thought that his new anger was sustaining the potion, but it couldn't hope to last forever. He needed them to _talk._

They didn't - at least not about anything relevant - until Potter proclaimed himself victorious. He celebrated with an obnoxious dance that threatened to snap the aching floorboards, but refused Pettigrew's offer of a rematch. "Sorry, Wormtail. I've got to head home."

Pettigrew - predictably - complained. "But _James-"_

"I have to, Peter. Lils will freak out otherwise."

"She - she still suspects me? I told you - I will do anything to prove - Snape must have been lying, I was not a traitor, I would _never_ have-"

Severus noted in amusement that Pettigrew's robe sleeves completely covered his arms. Not suspicious in this damp, draughty place, he conceded, but you thought that they would have _asked._

"I talked to her about that, Wormtail. She understands now. None of us would betray the other. But she's still worried about Snape and his girlfriend."

Pettigrew visibly cringed. "It is understandable," he said, voice a little shaky. "A most formidable lady-"

James clapped him on the back. "But you showed her, right? You didn't flee the country like she thought you would, and you're not going to take her threatening you lying down. Snape and Idina don't understand proper friendship, they never will. There's no way they'll foresee this. And we've got a plan to get rid of them, and then then you can come and live out in the open again. You'll see - it'll all turn out fine."

"Won't - won't I still have to stand trial?"

"We'll prove _everything,_ Peter. Including that he lied about you. You don't have to worry about a trial when you're innocent."

_Pettigrew is still in England. So the Marauders plan is to prove that I lied in my trial - among other, things apparently._ He wondered what those were. 

_Of course, I didn't, but it is easier to believe that your enemy has lied than it is to comprehend that a close friend has betrayed you. Even if all evidence points to the contrary._ His lip curled. Potter remained irritatingly stupid, but that was good. Pettigrew knew that his friends' plan was doomed to fail, if only because it rested on him being innocent. But, of course, he couldn't tell them that. If it wasn't for the fact that they might land him in Azkaban, he would have been perfectly content to let this mess run its course.

"I know, James, but I _do_ worry. I worry about someone finding me- and I hate this house-"

"It's a horrible house," Potter soothed, with a patience Severus envied. He never could cope with Pettigrew's wailing. Neither could most of the Death Eaters, for that matter. "But that's why it's a good hiding place. And nobody's going to find you - Sirius' family have so many wards about this house that no-one could break in if they tried. Not even Snape."

Severus smirked. _Or so you think._

Peter fixed James with wide, watery eyes. "But surely - surely he could, with as strong as a woman he has by his side."

Potter's face was suddenly stern, tightened by some invisible anger. Severus narrowed his eyes. Any weakness or discord between them, he could exploit. "_No,_ Peter. Drop it. I told you, we're still dealing with the repercussions of what happened the first time."

"Because I did not have your help. I was limited in the spells I could use-"

"You had Sirius' help!" Potter said furiously. "I still don't know _why_ he agreed to it - he's always hated Dark magic-"

"Indeed!" said Pettigrew, shrilly. "Indeed! And so he sees the truth - it is our responsibility to remove her, this new Dark Lady, from England! You and Lily are too idealistic-"

Potter's eyes flashed. "That spell could have _killed_ the baby. Lily spent an afternoon with it. It's a perfectly normal, happy toddler. No different from Harry."

"That theory is an invention of Snape's, there is no evidence to support that the child could have been harmed-"

"Mad-Eye believed it." Potter's face was cold. "And I read the description of the spell, and I believe it too. I mean it, Peter. It's like Dumbledore always says; we are doomed if we sink to the level of the Dark. You and Sirius went too far."

"It was mostly Sirius," said Pettigrew, sullenly. "I didn't do much. I just agree with him, is all, that Idina needs to be removed from the picture before you go for Snape."

_Liar,_ Snape hissed. He didn't trust himself to speak aloud, even if they wouldn't hear him. _Or the potion would have showed me his location, and not yours._

"We're going for _both_ of them," said Potter. "They're both doing illegal things. Sirius overestimates the sway Idina still has in England, that's all, or he would agree that that's the best way. Her family doesn't have strong ties to people like the Malfoys or the Greengrasses or anyone powerful here. If we go for her in a way that is public enough, for a crime that's important enough, they won't put their support behind her. And Snape's name is essentially mud, even though they're trying for good press. If we do this right-"

The room shook and shimmered. Potter kept on talking as if he couldn't notice, so Severus assumed that this was the potion ejecting him. He strained his ears, hoping that he could hear at least something more-

-"Theseus will testify-"

He woke up in his lab, gasping and shaking, and staggered to bed. His mind was swirling, both from what he had seen and the hatred, which seemed almost a tangible force. His head felt weighted, and there was pressure on his bones like they might crack. 

He reminded himself to make a note that the potion seemed to aggravate the negative emotions necessary for its use. Of course, he had seen that with Hector. But he was too tired to think about that now-

Sleep first. He had plenty to discuss the next day.

*

By the time he got up, Idina was feeding Megaera, although she was clearly just as exhausted as he was. "Good morning," she said, looking up briefly from her toast. "Did the potion work?"

"Better than I could have hoped," he said grimly, swallowing a hastily made cup of tea in one mouthful, "but I have a horrific headache. How did you fare?"

Idina nodded sleepily. "It went well. I've made some progress. I imagine that the spell should be completed early January."

So a little more than a month from now. Severus supposed that was impressive, considering she was dismantling a centuries-old blood curse designed by Herpo the Foul.

"For now, how about I view your memory of my attacker? Do you know who it is?"

Severus smirked. "You could say so." She tilted her head, clearly curious, but asked no more questions. He extracted the memory to place it in her Pensieve, an ornate black object with dogs galloping around the rim, and she eagerly entered it. He thought it was a family heirloom - presumably, a non-dangerous one.

When she withdrew her head from the memory, she looked far less happy and far more alert, her eyes hard and stony. "I have had _enough_ of these people. At least, our plan can hope to kill two birds with one stone. We can crush Pettigrew as we do his friends' feeble dreams of rescuing him from your apparently false accusations." Her tone was withering. "When is your meeting with Echo?"

"Night-time, of course."

"Then you need your sleep." Idina surveyed him. "Go and rest for a couple of hours. I'll list everything we learnt from the memory, and do some research on the more ambiguous elements of their conversation. That measly little rat was right about one thing. They _should_ have got me out of the picture."

Severus smiled. Pettigrew was right to fear Idina.

But he would not succeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You might notice that this work is now part of a series. 'Shedding Skin' is approaching the final arc in the story, but I don't quite feel finished with the universe I've created, so I'm planning a sequel.
> 
> As it stands now, there will be a one-shot to bridge the gap, and then another long, chaptered work like this. I'm thinking it will focus on Megaera during her first year at Hogwarts, although Severus and Idina will obviously remain characters. This is still all a plan and it might change, but I just thought I would give a heads-up for anyone that might be interested in reading!


	33. Diving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus is forced to dwell on old memories.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: brief mentions of death, family troubles

Severus placed the five vials of Wolfsbane on the table. He was not permitted to be there during the full moon, something he was secretly glad about, so he would have to trust Echo to report helpfully and accurately. That wasn't too much of an issue: Echo was competent, and Severus could always ask follow-up questions. He murmuring a few words of greeting to the test subjects, but there was little response. They seemed wary, although he could see hope and hunger beginning to shimmer in their golden eyes. 

Echo approached the table. "And the potion is unchanged from when we last communicated?"

"Indeed."

Echo examined the potions, presumably looking for any differences in colour and texture. There were none, of course, but Severus could not blame him for his mistrust. When satisfied, he nodded to the werewolf on the left, who began carefully packing them into a small container. "Do you have any particular worries that we might look out for, Severus?"

"Perhaps that the potion is lacking in Opaleye scales." Echo frowned. "I am conscious that this potion should also be available for children, and that particular ingredient can be harmful to them if ingested in too large a quantity. I have as such been conservative."

"Conservative," Echo repeated. There wasn't much inflection in his voice; so little, in fact, that Severus could not gauge his mood. "Should it affect the function of the potion?"

"Not so monumentally that it will not work. It might stunt its effectiveness, however. After they have transformed, I would ask that they describe their experiences. As I said, I have been conservative. The amount I used can be upped without making the potion toxic to younger ages."

Echo nodded curtly. "I see. Very well, then. You will receive my report as soon as possible. Usually they would need some time to recover from the full moon, but we can hope that it will not be as necessary tonight."

"We can hope indeed," said Severus, bowing his head. They left almost immediately, neither one of them harbouring a particular penchant for niceties. Severus was glad. He had much to do, after all. 

When he entered, Idina appeared to be in less disarray than she had the day before. Her hair was arranged in plaits and piled on top of her head, and she wore an extraordinarily frilly green blouse and a flowing, pleated skirt. She smiled triumphantly when she saw him.

"Have you made progress?" he asked.

She nodded excitedly. "The spell is coming along. But more relevantly for you, I believe I know where dear Peter Pettigrew is hiding."

Severus could feel his mouth watering at the thought of vengeance. "Yes? Where is it?"

"The Black ancestral home, Grimmauld Place. Sirius Black's parents are long-dead - and so, of course, is Regulus." Severus swallowed. "His parents neglected it even while they were alive, and as Sirius has shown absolutely no interest in the upkeep of the place, it has fallen into disrepair." She smiled. "Once I had a name, I was able to do some research. Here."

She handed him a photograph. It showed a woman who looked a little like Nana Helen, smiling and laughing with a blonde man who was shockingly like Regulus. They were at some sort of dinner party, on a long wooden table. 

"Look at the walls," Idina prompted. "The cupboard - the decoration. It matches the room in your memory." 

Severus stared at the cupboard. Without being told, he never would have associated the gleaming wood with the rotting, infested hunk of wood in the vision the potion had given him, but now he could see the similarities. "Where is this photo from?"

"It's an old one. A dinner party from an old family photo album, at Grimmauld Place. I've made some enquiries-"

"You've done a lot today," said Severus. He hoped that she could see his admiration on his face.

"Well, you know that I love a good mystery," said Idina, eyes sparkling. Severus rolled his eyes - she had been attempting to badger him into reading some of her old Agatha Christie books for a while. "But anyway, listen. I've been able to research the wards. Potter was right - they're _very_ thick."

Severus scowled. "Thick as in impenetrable?"

"I don't think so. Why would Black improve the wards if he hasn't even attempted to stop the floors from rotting? Especially considering the protections he knew his paranoid ancestors had already put in place. I doubt they've been changed in years."

"That doesn't change much, if they're as strong as you and Potter think."

"Not a lot," Idina admitted. "But if we operate under the assumption that they haven't changed, we can do research to find a way to break them without actually having to scout out the house. That would be dangerous, for obvious reasons, and I think you'd agree with me that going to the Aurors with our suspicions-"

"No," said Severus flatly.

"Exactly." Idina crossed her arms. "I know this is a lot to ask of you, but did Regulus ever mention the wards around his home?"

Severus wondered if she saw the momentary flurry of emotion in his eyes. He hoped not. "He mentioned me coming to dinner a couple of times," he said at last. His voice felt precariously balanced. "I can go and examine the memories in a Pensieve. He might have made a comment that could be worth pursuing."

Idina nodded. If she had noticed his reaction to Regulus' name, he couldn't tell. "Very well. I'll go and talk to the portraits that knew the Blacks, and then we can reconvene. Maybe some of the information will make more sense when we put it together." She hurried off before he could respond. He hid a smile; he had never expected to find a partner more manic about research than him.

Severus walked to retrieve the Pensieve with a growing sense of dread breeding like mould in his stomach. _This is to defeat the Marauders,_ he reminded himself. _It won't kill you to see Regulus' face. You've done it with Clarissa already._

His last thought before he immersed himself in the memories was that strangely, he'd prefer for Clarissa to be here.

_"I'm not sure your parents would want me in the house," his younger self said._ Severus scowled. He had already forgotten that he had ever been that skinny, and the dark, distracted look in Young Severus' eyes was already foreign to him. Watching memories of himself as a Death Eater didn't become more comfortable, but less, as he made progress in Clarissa's sessions. The Severus in them felt more like a stranger each time. 

_Regulus looked up at him. His hair was thick and rich, not thin and greasy like Severus', but he had never quite mastered taking care of it. It was fluffy, sticking in all directions._

He was a _child._ Severus had always known that, but not until he had gotten a job and a flat and started looking after Megaera had he known quite so much. 

_"What do you mean?" Regulus asked. His voice was high and sharp, evidently patrician. "Mother is so excited about everything. She's always asking for me to bring some friends from 'work' around."_

_"I think she more means people like Lucius or Bellatrix," Young Severus said, with a palpable bitterness. "I'm a half-blood, remember, and I'm not politically powerful."_

_Regulus' jaw set. "You're a half-blood, but you are powerful," he insisted. "I already told Mum about all of your potions, and how the Dark Lord asks for you to brew special ones for him. You're going to be more important than them."_

_"Don't say that so loudly," said Severus, eyes flickering around the area. It was an open field with some Muggle settlements nearby - a good place for raids. He and Regulus were sitting by a campfire, a fair distance apart from the rest of the Death Eaters, but you never knew who was lurking or listening. "I have no desire to come into conflict with either of them. Particularly Bellatrix."_

Severus ground his teeth. Young Severus looked ridiculous, now. _"I have no desire,"_ he had said, in a wondrously affected voice, puffing out his meagre chest. At least he had had enough sense to know that he was not at all ready to take on Bellatrix, yet. The next few months of raids and combat would change that, though. Severus had left the Dark Lord's service an expert duelist.

_"So you won't come to dinner, then?" Regulus looked crestfallen._

_Crabbe shrieked with laughter, lumbering out of the bushes. Severus wondered what on earth he had been doing. Smoking or relieving himself, most likely. "What, turned down, Reggie?"_

_"Go away," said Young Severus. "It's not your business." Severus could see that his younger self was afraid - both for himself and Regulus - but luckily, that was far better than the airs and graces he had put on when he and Regulus were alone. His whole body had tensed, his fingers had immediately clenched around his wand, and the look in his eyes was animalistic and defensive._

The Marauders had maybe been good for something. 

_Crabbe slunk away back to the main fire. Regulus was shaking._

_"Stop that," Young Severus said, reanimating the fire with his wand. He knew that Regulus wasn't cold, but it wouldn't hurt to give him some dignity. "You're a Death Eater, remember. You have to be strong."_

_"Will you come to dinner if I get strong?"_

_Young Severus glared at him, but it lacked vitriol. "Maybe. I don't know. Ask your mum who she wants you to invite. I don't think it's anyone like me."_

_"I wish you wouldn't put yourself down so much, Sev."_

_Young Severus flinched. "Don't call me that."_

_"Sorry. Don't you like nicknames?"_

_"Not that one. It was - it was the one the Mudblood called me."_

_Regulus nodded. Young Severus doubted that he really understood, but the excuse was easy enough. All half-blood Death Eaters were keen to sever all ties with the Muggle and Muggleborn parts of themselves. It was a matter of survival, so it wouldn't seem strange that Severus was sensitive about it._

The memory shifted. 

_They were waiting in Malfoy Manor. The meetings were often held there, which always gave Lucius an additional superiority complex for the evening that someone so obnoxious could easily have done without. The Dark Lord himself often lost patience and tortured him as a result, something that Severus remembered looking forward to. He had loathed Lucius, loathed his confidence and his wealth and his prestige, particularly in the days when he himself was lacking all three._

_The Dark Lord wasn't due to arrive for an hour or so, but the Death Eaters always congregated early. Nobody had ever actually come in late so far, but the prospect was more than enough of a deterrent. Not to mention, they couldn't talk about anything personal once_ he _arrived, lest he use it against them._

_"I talked to my parents," said Regulus, checking that everybody else was already immersed in conversation. He had learnt that much, at least. "Father wants you to come round. He can sense potential when he hears about it, he said."_

_Young Severus raised an eyebrow. "Yeah?"_

_"Mother doesn't want you to," Regulus said, words rushed. "She's more - intense - about blood than she used to be. I think Sirius leaving drove her mad."_

_Young Severus didn't comment. The gulf in Regulus' heart was painful, a chasm that could be crossed only by a rope stretched far too thin. His parents lay on one side, and Sirius on the other._

_Young Severus hated Sirius, and he hated Sirius' mother, too. But who was he to say that? He was the churning waters in the middle. He had no interest in making this an emotionally difficult place for Regulus as well._

_"Reggie!" Bellatrix cooed, leaping across the table like an animal. Regulus froze in his seat, and Narcissa and Alecto's heads turned. Out of anxiety and anticipation respectively, Severus would guess._

_Young Severus thought that they both hated him, and the dark look in his eyes said as much. Bellatrix laughed in delight. The more driven to rage and madness Severus had seemed, the more interested she had become. She had liked him far less when he became closer to who he was now - reserved, and cold, and quietly deadly, although just as insecure and morally void._

_"What do you want, Bella?"_

_"Just to_ talk-"

Severus rose from his memories feeling a little sick and very shaky, as he often did. Confronting the depths of insecurity and darkness that was his past self always made him unsettled. And so did thinking about Regulus.

Severus did not love him anymore. How could he? Regulus was practically a baby - he had been to Severus even then. He was inexperienced and clumsy and insensitive and childish, far too childish for where he had ended up. And it was that fact that had replaced his love with a fury, a shuddering fury, that Regulus had never been given the chance to grow up.

He sat in the chair calming his breathing for a while, as Clarissa had taught him. Those were all the memories he had initially set out to view, but Regulus mentioning his mother's madness had reminded Severus of something else. Before he could talk himself out of it, he pulled out the appropriate memory. This was for his survival, and Idina's, and Megaera's. It was about his future, not his past.

Would Regulus regret Severus using his words to harm his brother?

_He is dead. Enough,_ he thought to himself, and then he dived into the Pensieve.

_"Rus! Rus!"_

_Young Severus heard Nott laugh. Probably because of his nickname. He was glad that nobody could see him flush this late at night._

_"Don't call me that in front of them," he said snappishly. "What do you want?"_

_Regulus wriggled in place like he'd been kicked. "Where are you staying tonight?"_

_"My dad's house. You wouldn't like it."_

_Regulus wriggled again. "Will he mind if I'm there?"_

_"He's dead," said Young Severus. It had happened only a short time before this memory, and he was clearly still gloriously drunk on the fact. The satisfaction was deep in his voice, and his head tilted back like he was lost in pleasure._ Severus had never really mourned his father, but he found himself glad that he no longer relished his death like rich chocolate or wine. 

_"Oh," said Regulus. "Can I come, then? It's just - I don't want to go home."_

_Young Severus stared at him for a while, and then held out his arm. He could well enough imagine why someone's home wouldn't be a happy place for them. "Come on, then."_

_Regulus was steadier on his feet after the Apparition than Severus had expected him to be, but he was clearly thrown off-guard by the sight of the Muggle house. Young Severus spun on his heel, danger flaming in his eyes._ Severus winced. He could recognise the same insecurities, if less aggravated, in his current self.

_"I_ said _you wouldn't like it."_

_"I'm just surprised," Regulus defended. "This isn't where I imagined you growing up."_

_Young Severus stomped towards the door, flinging it open so harshly that Severus thought it might snap the hinges, and put the kettle on. "Well, it is. Why couldn't you go to your own house, anyway?"_

_Regulus sat down in the biggest armchair. It had been Tobias'. Severus never sat there; he didn't want to. Regulus was better. It was fitting that the antithesis of his father had taken it over in his absence._

_"Mother's condition is getting worse," he said at last. "She just cries and cries. And rants - she has horrible rants. She doesn't stop until she's exhausted herself by screaming and cursing everything in sight. She can't stand the thought that Sirius has left."_

_Severus stared at the chair, not Regulus. "What does your dad do?"_

_"He just laughs. It's like it's not even real." There was a wild longing in Regulus' voice, like he hoped more than anything that that was true. "He just keeps saying 'my son will come home.' I don't think he thinks that Sirius is wilful enough to stay away forever."_

Severuses of past and present snorted in unison. 

_"Mother is throwing up wards and wards trying to keep him out. It's enough to stop a dragon. She's blasted him off the tapestry, too. But Father says that Sirius is Black by blood, and so the wards won't forget him and neither will he."_

_Young Severus was quiet._

_"Rus?"_

_"I won't give you good advice about Bl- your brother," Young Severus said at last. "I don't like him, and you do. I'm sorry about your mum, though."_

_"I'm sorry about your dad."_

_"Don't be," said Young Severus. Regulus tilted his head curiously-_

Severus pulled himself out of the memory. He knew what came next - that night, over a poorly made dinner and too much alcohol for boys who couldn't really handle it yet, he'd told Regulus things about himself he'd never told anyone. Lily had witnessed enough to know, in her heart of hearts, even if she never really mentioned it. And there had never been anyone else trustworthy. 

That wasn't the point now, however.

He had a lead.


	34. Manipulations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus and Idina formulate a clever but unpleasant plan to retrieve Peter, and begin talking about Lily.

Idina rose from the Pensieve. 

"Did you notice anything I didn't mention?" Severus asked, holding his hand out so that she could regain her balance. He moved to let go, but she held on.

"I didn't notice anything additional about the wards," she said, meeting his eyes. "But thank you for entrusting me with these memories." 

Severus saw in her face that she was truly thanking him for everything it had meant. Not just showing her memories of a previous lover, but his precious and untainted memories of Regulus, unlike the now-spoiled ones with Lily. And the fact that it meant she witnessed him as a Death Eater, gripped in darkness and his own self-indulgent emotions. When she had met him he had been far from functional, but he hadn't been as bitter as he once was. It had been frightening, to bear the worst of himself to a woman he could no longer bear the thought of parting from. 

"I trust you to have them," he said at last, hoping that she could see his earnestness on his own face, too. It had never been an expression he wore very well. "It might be that your recent discovery is influencing me, but my first thought was that it some form of blood magic."

Idina nodded, certainty sharpening her face. "I initially suspected this, because it's very common, but it's good to have some confirmation. It's not blood magic like Herpo's, that could stretch across whole family trees. It's within the direct family unit, meant to reinforce the conventional division of property that is so central to our culture. If a Pureblood wishes to leave their ancestral home to someone that is not their direct descendant or spouse, they have to key them into the wards before they die." 

"So their wards only allow someone from the Black family unit inside the house?" Severus scowled. "Unless he keys us into the wards, which I can hardly see him agreeing to."

Idina shook her head. "I'm not talking about the wards themselves - they're probably incredibly nasty Dark Arts that the Ministry can't pull your good friend Sirius up on, considering that he technically had nothing to do with their placement. I'm talking about an _exception_ in the wards. The Pureblood emphasis on family is meant to overcome all petty squabbles that happen within life. Divorces and estrangements are viewed as great sins, perhaps only secondary to endangering the bloodline in some other way. It seems that Sirius and Regulus' father, at least, subscribed to this ideology."

"Hence his surety that Sirius would return. And he was right, was he not?" Severus added, with a sneer. "Black never gave up the property, even if he continued to neglect it." He sat down. "So there is an exception in the wards, but it is hardly one we can exploit. Unless we were to attempt to control him somehow, but that is incredibly risky. And difficult to explain when we hand in Pettigrew, because even if it wasn't the Imperius Curse, it would have to be Dark Arts."

Idina nodded curtly. "But the only person in their family unit left is Sirius himself, who is one of the enemies we are attempting to take down." She sniffed. "Once these messes are cleaned up, I'm never touching blood magic again. Not only is it unwieldy, but it is inflexible, and a great inconvenience to dismantle." She managed to make it sound as if blood magic would be deeply wounded to hear her disparagement. 

"But blood itself is flexible, is it not?" Idina arched her eyebrows. "Not in the sense of family and culture that Purebloods apparently so value, but the actual physical reality …" Severus grinned. "That's nothing compared to magic. I could have Black blood in my veins utilising a simple Polyjuice potion."

She now looked intrigued. "I wouldn't gamble with something like Polyjuice on _their_ wards, if they're as powerful as we have been led to believe. But you pose an interesting point. Is there anything stronger you could use?" 

Severus strode to the library for the relevant books. "I know little about blood magic, but plenty about blood potions. They require skill and intense concentration, neither of which is a problem, but they should also need some of Black's blood. I do not know of any such potion off the top of my head, but I can try and find one that doesn't require it."

"No," said Idina. "A blood potion without blood? It's impossible, and a waste of time for you to look."

"We have no other option unless we find another exception in the wards," said Severus. "And that is the better option, then. It's safer to scout out the house and risk discovery than it is to attack Black."

Idina sniffed again. "I wasn't suggesting nothing so overt as an _attack._ Not an attack he can see, anyway."

"To procure fresh blood, we will have to be within short range. I can see no excuse for that until _they_ make a move on us, which will likely be too late." 

Idina's eyes flashed, not with anger but with brightness. "But we do have an excuse, do we not? Lily invited you to her Christmas party."

Severus' head jerked. "You cannot _possibly_ be suggesting-" 

"I'm not saying I _like_ it," said Idina, tossing her head back at his tone. "But it does seem to be our best option."

"Absolutely not," Severus snarled.

"Do you have another plan to get within range of Black?" she asked, folding her arms.

"It isn't just about my personal feelings," he said coldly. "I hardly doubt that her invitation remains extended following recent events." 

Idina smiled complacently. "Well, that's easily sorted, isn't it?"

"Is it?" he snapped.

"Well," she said, now wearing an extremely smug expression, "who's the one person all five of you are obliged to listen to?" 

"Nonsense, my dear boy," Dumbledore rumbled into the Floo. "I could not possibly pass such a message onto Lily. Your presence would be missed at the party."

Idina smirked, _I told you so_ written clearly on her face. Severus rolled his eyes, knowing that Dumbledore would interpret the gesture as being directed towards him. 

"I know you still feel like an outcast, but your situation will improve, if only by coming to events such as this," he lectured. Severus forced himself not to roll his eyes again. "Did your shared bond over Regulus not bring you and Sirius together?"

"Hardly," said Severus, flaring his nostrils. "More importantly, Lily has confessed many things to me. It seems that she feels my presence more of a burden than a blessing. I ask that you relieve her."

Dumbledore's face washed over, if only for a moment, with something like disappointment.

_So he did put her up to it._

"She must have been under a lot of pressure to say such a thing," he said. "But she should remember that you are too struggling, and be forgiving. You have never been anything short of loving towards her, Severus, after all. It is the one place in which I cannot fault you." He shook his head sadly. "No, I will not allow things to go any further in this direction. Love would naturally mend this relationship, but I shall not be persuaded into giving the wrong path a leg-up. Rest easily tonight, dear boy. I shall Floo her at once and make it abundantly clear that I demand that you attend."

"Do not make it sound as if I _wish_ to be there," Severus hissed. It was only partly performance. He could not bear the thought of being portrayed in such a way to Lily and the Marauders.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "No matter, my boy, no matter. I will make it clear that it is a demand of you as much as it is a demand of them. And, Severus-"

"Yes?"

"It may be time to lay down your weapons, but do not let your shield rest. There are many things happening underground that nobody fully understands." 

_Including you,_ Severus thought viciously, but he only nodded solemnly as the old man's face disappeared from the fire. 

"Spectacular," said Idina, eyes sparkling. "It worked even better than I thought. I imagined you'd have to nudge him a little more into forcing Lily not to retract the invite."

"I've never known anyone so deluded," said Severus scathingly, standing and dusting his robes. 

"I don't know," said Idina contemplatively. "Towards the end, I thought he was trying to give you a hint about what the Marauders are up to. I think he knows more than he lets on, but chooses to indulge things and let them rush to a head. He's meant to be a genius, after all. Maybe he even has guessed what _we're_ planning." 

Severus scoffed. "The old man would never think of blood magic. That's too close to Dark Arts for him to willingly suspect it of his favourite charity project."

Idina grinned. "Well, let's hope that you're right, because if he's so afraid of Dark magic, he might try and stop us. How do you think we should attempt to extract the blood from Sirius?"

Severus sneered. "Do you think he'd notice if we plunged a needle into his neck?"

She gave him a sharp look. "They may be forced to have us there, but that doesn't mean they'll be pleasant. It _definitely_ doesn't mean that they'll let their guards down. That house will hold - at the very least - three trained Aurors, a werewolf, and a Death Eater."

"He was hardly a very _good_ Death Eater," said Severus sullenly, but he inclined his head in acknowledgement when she looked like she would fold her arms again. "Very well. I'll think of a plan."

Idina opened her mouth, but was interrupted by a soft thump that suggested that Megaera had tried to climb out of her cot by herself. There was momentary silence, and then a wail.

She sighed. "Would you go and tend to her? I was hoping to make some progress on the spell." 

Severus smiled. Used to being a single parent (at least since Caspian), she had initially been reticent to ask him to do such things. It was still rare, but he was glad that she was shouldering less of her burdens by herself.

And he was maybe glad that he got to spend more time with Megaera, too. It wasn't as if he was especially fond of children. 

He just happened to like spending time with this particular toddler. 

Severus had Megaera entertained, fed, read a story to and put to sleep by the time Idina at last decided she needed a break. Her eyes were tired. 

"How did it go?"

"It was taxing," she said shortly. He nodded, not pushing. He understood the frustration of development and creation.

She was clearly content to sit in silence and drink her tea for a while, but the world was never so kind. There was a squawk and a tap at the window - Severus frowned and flicked his wand, and was immediately accosted by a rain-drenched bird. Idina relaxed back into her chair when she realised it was for him.

The owl was familiar, and dropped her letter to him without so much as a glance, which he assumed was reflective of the writer's attitude. She soared off without waiting for a reply.

_Severus,_

_Dumbledore has contacted me tonight and requested your presence at my Christmas party. He apparently received the impression that you didn't want to go. I can't imagine why._

_He has asked me to do my very best to be kind and forgiving towards you, but I can't forgive you, and in our last conversation it seemed that you didn't want any of my kindness if you couldn't have that. So I am asking that you be civil and nothing more, and I will abide by those terms as well. I have no intention of upsetting Dumbledore or spoiling Harry's Christmas. For those reasons, I will ask James, Sirius and Remus to behave politely as long as you do. Dumbledore also spoke to James over the Floo, which will probably convince him better than I could._

_Idina and Megaera are invited too, also by the request of Dumbledore. I expect you to impress upon her that good behaviour is asked for on her end as well. I won't stand for her lording over us or her sick power plays, behaving as if we or I am lesser, and she isn't to threaten anyone. This is meant to be a happy time and I want you to make it so as much as possible within the circumstances._

_Lily Evans_

"As if I know another Lily," he said aloud, not wishing to comment on anything else written in the letter yet. He looked over at Idina. "Do you promise to behave well?" he asked, with a grim amusement. "There are expectations, you know."

Idina held out her hand for the letter, pursing her lips more and more as she read on. By the time she reached the signature, they were white. "She wants _me_ not to behave as if _she_ is lesser?" she asked frostily. "Perhaps she is a little confused. I confess, I can't understand why you ever associated with her."

Severus raised his eyebrows. "Well, you didn't know her before. The war changed her a fair bit. And she _liked_ me in our younger days, which made a world of difference."

Idina straightened. "I don't wish to push you on this subject again, and you are welcome to refuse, but I thought I would request to see some of your memories of Lily. I want to understand what enraptured you so with someone I've found singularly unimpressive."

"Unimpressive, or dislikeable?" Severus asked mildly.

Idina glared at him. "Is that a yes or a no?"

He closed his eyes. Trusting was still _difficult._ It wasn't like a switch or a lever as he had once thought of it, it was like a hike, each step more exhausting than the last. 

But he wanted to do it.

"I will show you my memories," he consented, standing up and walking towards the Pensieve. Idina raised her eyebrows, but did nothing else, as he emptied his mind of Lily. Their first meeting. Afternoons spent playing together. Him teaching her about Hogwarts. Her defending him from the Marauders. Their first argument about his other friends. Them working together in Potions and Charms. Them working apart when Mulciber or Pettigrew wanted help. Him calling her a Mudblood-

He stared down into the bowl. The memories were silver as always, but he expected them to be black or heavy or white with rot. "Very well," he said at last. "It's ready."

Idina looked down at the memories as if she didn't think them much nicer than he did, but lowered himself into them, if with a grim set to her face. Severus turned to his desk with much the same expression. He had an unpleasant task ahead of himself.

When Idina surfaced, she was surely going to wish to talk. Which meant that Severus had to do the task Clarissa set. He owed it to her, and to himself and Idina, to approach this conversation with some sort of clarity. He divided the page into two, writing "fair" at the head of one column, and "unfair" on the other.

_"That this is my reward for my kindness to you. The possibility of losing my job, and learning how little my colleagues actually trust me, and hours of brutal interrogation in that horrible, cramped room."_

_"Don't twist what I'm saying! I_ knew _you would react like this-"_

_"I never expected you to give me anything. You know I didn't. It's just that I made the effort of talking to you and trying to help you, and now I'm losing things. You can't tell me that it's fair."_

_"Because you know_ so much _about true kindness. Don't you think I've lost enough to you already?"_

_"Don't you think so?_ Sev? _Are you in there?"_

_"Oh, I have, have I? I've hurt you? I've done so much for you-"_

_"Do you know how difficult it is to like you? You fought with and hurt my sister. You creeped out my friends. You hung out with Dark people, and then turned Dark yourself. You joined the Death Eaters. I still have nightmares about Fabian Prewett. You dared to betray the Dark Lord in my name, as if I asked to be involved in your journey discovering basic fucking morals. And when I put all that behind me, and came to your house and talked over tea and biscuits like we were just ordinary friends, you still have the nerve to complain about it. Because you want nothing more than my pure, unselfish devotion to you. After everything you've done."_

He sighed, staring down at the paper until it blurred.

He should start with something easy. What was easy to allocate?

Fabian Prewett. That had been a cruel and evil thing to do, especially to Prewett, who had done him no personal offence. He had just been a convenient Auror member. Lily was losing as much sleep over Severus' potion as Severus was, and that was reprehensible. 

He considered the rest of what she had said. He still hated the way she had put a value on kindness to him. Never had he thought of Lily's relationship as some form of allyship, like he might have considered Echo.

But what else? He thought on her words in frustration. Would they be easier to categorise if his emotions stopped getting in the way, or were her words and motivations really so morally blurred? Would this be easier for a normal person? Was it just indicative of Severus' own moral failing?

There was another squawk, and an owl soared in through the now open window. He didn't recognise it, but it looked much more important than Lily's had. 

The letter was folded into a pink crane, shimmered over with gold dust. Severus unfolded it impatiently, immediately knowing who it was from.

_Theseus Clayborne,_ it read.

_I assume that my warning will be repaid one day._


	35. Guests

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things complicate further, which proves too much for Idina.

"Theseus - was that name not mentioned in your memory? I wrote down everything." Idina walked over to her desk and began frantically overturning papers, finally snatching at the one she was looking for. "Yes, here it is. _Theseus will testify_ are the exact words you heard."

"Presumably at the sham of a trial they are attempting to use against us," Severus said bitterly, staring down at the pink note. "I do not recognise the name."

"Neither do I. It's most likely fake," said Idina, wrinkling her nose as if she didn't go by a false name herself. _"Clayborne_ \- I'll make some enquiries. Unless, of course, you wish to continue talking." 

Severus shook his head, silently glad. "If Chantelle thought we needed a warning, this is probably more important than Lily. We can carry on with our discussion when we have less going on. I can be of little help with this, as I lack any contacts, but I can begin looking for a suitable blood potion. I probably shouldn't buy the ingredients all at once, and some might take a while to procure."

Idina began firing off letters almost immediately, her hand hurried as it could be whilst preserving an image of composure. Severus turned to the library. He had a few excellent volumes in mind when it came to blood potions. 

He had finally decided on a potion, and was attempting to formulate a plan as to how he could have the Ministry authorise some of the less conventional ingredients, when Idina pushed her head past the door. She looked stressed. "Severus? There's a man from the Ministry here to see you." 

He frowned. If it had been one of the Marauders, or even Moody, she would have said so. He couldn't imagine anyone else but Hannah contacting him. "Who is it?" he asked, getting up at once.

"He introduced himself as Kingsley Shacklebolt. It seems that he knows of you."

Severus nodded curtly, making sure to smooth his robes as he entered, and kneeled down by the fire. "Mr Shacklebolt. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"It's actually a rather dire circumstance," said Shacklebolt grimly. Severus did not know him very well, but he could see the lines and shadows of stress on his face regardless. "We were hoping that you might be able to provide a potion that could be of use. We don't have any specific ideas, but we're at a loss. And, perhaps-" 

He hesitated. Severus raised his eyebrows. "Yes, sir?"

"Auror Moody said that you provided useful information on a Dark Arts spell during that unfortunate business with Idina Brass." Severus' eyes flashed a little, but he refrained from commenting on the handling of her attempted murder. It probably wouldn't go down well at all. "We ourselves are really struggling to identify what sort of magic has been used in this particular case. Nothing we couldn't eventually find, but if you could speed up the process-"

Severus inclined his head, keeping all frustration off his face. It was annoying to have his potions work disrupted, and the last place he wanted to go now was the Auror department. On Moody's recommendation, no less. He curled his lip in distaste.

But this was his job. And not just a job, at that; it was a shackle, and one triggered to kill if it got too loose.

"What's _he_ doing here?" Potter exploded. Lily paled.

"He's a Ministry employee that could be helpful," Kingsley said, without turning to look at him. Severus wondered how long you had to work with James Potter before you got tired of him. "This shouldn't be surprising. Severus, will you take a look at this corpse?"

Severus raised his eyebrows - he hadn't been expecting a murder - but approached it. It took all of his willpower not to gasp aloud when he saw it.

_Black bones._

His head jerked up. This couldn't be a coincidence, surely-

Shacklebolt had naturally registered his reaction as general shock, and presumably so had the other Aurors dotted around. Potter, on the other hand, was clearly furious, more angry than even Severus' presence should make him. His jaw was tense and his lips were tight. Lily's face was still white and, for Severus at least, easier to read. Anger, fear, _guilt._

"Who is this corpse?" he asked quietly. 

"His name was Thomas Reid," said Kingsley. "He worked as an administrative assistant for the department, typing up records mostly. The only possible motive we can imagine for killing him is that he sometimes lent assistance on Auror cases."

"Is that routine?" asked Severus, examining the bones. They weren't charred or rotted like he had imagined, but pure, opaque black, like they had been doused in paint or oil. 

"No," Kingsley said shortly. He looked hard at Potter. A female Auror standing beside him breathed hard out of her nose; he glanced at her, and she responded with a venomous glare. "I wouldn't mention it if I didn't think it might have something to do with what's happened to Thomas. It was never anything serious, you must understand - just odd jobs, making enquiries on the side - but we'd still appreciate it if you didn't spread it around, Severus. Especially to any press."

Severus inclined his head again. "Which Aurors were he helping? On which cases?"

"You don't need to know any of this," said Lily lowly. "You're not here as an Auror."

"Neither was Thomas," Severus responded, keeping his tone as neutral as possible. She still flinched. "Ah. So he helped you, then. What sort of case was it?" 

She opened her mouth, and then closed it again. He could see the fear, now, much more clearly. "I can't tell you that information. It's not necessary, anyway, like I said. You aren't supposed to be investigating, that's our job. What's your expert opinion?"

Severus looked down at the corpse, mind racing as to what to say. "I don't think this was a single spell," he said finally. "At least, I've never heard of such a one."

"Is he qualified to give us advice like this?" asked the female Auror. Potter snorted under his breath.

"He was right last time, and he might be able to put us in the right direction," said Kingsley firmly. "What do you think it was? Not - not a potion? We have seen an uprise in use of potions, since - well, since you."

"A potion could probably do this," Severus agreed, not commenting on his apparent influence. "But I doubt you'll be able to tell what Thomas ingested before he died just from the bones. Your best shot is having someone examine the magical residue, which I am _not_ qualified to do." He glanced at the Auror, who huffed again. 

"Someone's already done that," she said, tossing her hair. "Do you have anything else?"

"This does remind me of an older case. A woman tried for excessive use of Dark magic turned one man to black bones."

Kingsley's head jerked. "When was this?"

"The late 18th century, if I recall. I imagine the Ministry might still have records. I believe it was a combination of particular spells that did it." 

_The Ministry accepted that feeble excuse once. Maybe they will do so again._

"A combination of spells," said Lily hoarsely. "Which spells?"

"I can't remember," said Severus. He gestured down at the bones. "It could have been anything, really," he added, voice soft and malicious. "This sort of thing tends to happen when people act without thinking." 

Her nostrils flared, and he could see her hands were trembling. She was either viciously scared or incredibly angry. He thought both.

"Do you think a potion will be possible on your end, Severus?" asked Kingsley, brow furrowed. "We will continue to investigate, of course, but is there anything you can do to help?"

Severus couldn't stop the sudden smile. It was grim, he knew, and both Lily and the other Auror flinched from it. 

"You could say that I have an interest in this particular corpse," he said at last. "I will see if there is anything I can do to prevent blackened skeletons." 

"Prevent?" repeated Lily.

"There's no hope for Reid now," Severus replied coldly. "I thought you would have already come to that conclusion."

She flinched again. This time, he was expecting it. 

_"Black bones?"_

"He was illegally doing odd jobs for the department," said Severus. "Shacklebolt knew nothing about _that_, of course, I suspect until it came up when they had to investigate his death. He looked furious."

"No wonder," said Idina crisply. "It would be a disaster if it got out that the Aurors are having untrained Ministry employees doing dangerous work for them." 

"I doubt it was anything truly dangerous," said Severus. "To their knowledge, anyway."

Idina sat down and closed her eyes. Her hands, placed over one another, were trembling. "They must be blaming themselves," was all she said. "What sort of man was Thomas Reid?" Her voice was high and a little unstable, swaying drunkenly through the air.

"I don't know," Severus admitted, making sure to soften his tone. He hadn't expected for her to take the news so badly. "I wasn't told much. But you cannot blame yourself for this."

"It is my family curse." She opened her eyes again, and they were very sharp. _"Surely_ you don't think this is a coincidence." 

"Of course not. But you had nothing to do with the curse being implemented in the first place, and you are doing your very best to break it. It's Lily's fault. And probably Potter's and Black's, too." 

Idina frowned. "How so?"

"You should have seen them. They were sick and shaken with guilt and anger-"

"Couldn't that just be you?"

He shook his head. "No. Kingsley looked at Potter when I asked if it was routine for Reid to perform jobs on behalf of the Aurors. And Lily looked as if I was going to strike her when I asked what cases he had been working on. They asked him to do something."

"Not something actually related to their assigned cases, I take it," said Idina. She closed her eyes again.

"Do you want to be sick?"

"No," she snapped. "Well?" she added impatiently, when Severus did nothing but stare. "For what had they enlisted Reid's help?"

"I don't know. I think they must have been using him for their investigation against us. Reid did something that triggered the curse-" 

"And hence the black bones." Her tone was weary, but he could sense an undercurrent of fear. "Their investigation against _me,_ then. Do you think they've made the connection?" 

Severus looked over at her. Her hands were shaking even more violently than before, and her eyes were wild and desperate. How little sleep she had been getting suddenly struck him. 

"Idina." He took her hand, but she didn't seem to notice. The tremors were affecting her forearms, now, and her breathing had become shallow. _"Idina._ I don't have a bath with golden Parseltongue taps to offer you, but you need to have one. And then you need to go to bed."

"Megaera-"

"I will take care of Megaera for tonight."

"The curse-"

"Is upsetting you, and you are no good for anything in this state. More importantly, you're unstable, and you need to recover before you do long-term damage to your mental health."

She laughed bitterly, but she stood up with him, although her hands still shuddered and jerked in his. She was silent as he ran the bath - about as far from her expensive one as could be - apart from shaky sobs. He tried to comfort her, but it had never been his forte; she just cried harder. 

"Idina. Idina, please. You cannot blame yourself for this man's death. You had nothing to do with it-"

_"Exactly!"_ Her voice jumped in between her sharp intakes of breath, but she carried on talking. "All these people are dying because of me, and I can't even control it. Severus - we do _not_ understand this spell. We have no understanding of what the parameters are. Why was this man, who probably harboured no personal thoughts of harm towards my person, struck? Why not the people who put him up to it?"

"Idina-"

"And we apparently have an enemy that no-one will speak of!" Severus frowned in confusion, triggering a hiccoughing explanation. "Whoever Theseus Clayborne is, he's either a ghost or so powerful that I can't find a single person that will betray him. It's no wonder that Chantelle's message was so cryptic. Severus, I think we're in real danger. We don't know so much, and there's so many unpredictable factors. How could this possibly go right?"

Severus wiped her eyes with his thumb. He had done that for Regulus, once, who had sulkily complained that he was not a baby. Young Severus had told him that if that was the case, he should stop crying like one.

Something more tactful was probably required here.

"We don't know that it will go right," he said gently. "And you're right that we don't know much else. But we can find out. I have already been asked to assist, which gives me the perfect opening for asking questions."

Idina shook her head frantically. She had loosened her hair from the bun, and now it flew wildly. It was greasy and stringy, looking more like Severus' than her own, beautiful hair. Her hands were shaking as she undid her robe buttons, but she hit his away when he tried to help. "But you need to step away from this, and quickly. They know that this curse has something to do with me." Her face contorted with a sudden sob. "I don't want to go to Azkaban. Ever since I came to England, my greatest fear has been that someone will find out about my family and I'll have to go there. I don't want to."

"You are just as much a victim of this curse as Thomas Reid is," Severus said steadily. "You may not be a black skeleton, but you have just as little control," he added, when she looked ready to protest. "If it comes to talk of Azkaban, you can explain." 

Idina was silent as she lowered herself in the tub. She sat in a hunched position, head on her knees and arms wrapped around her legs. "They'll say I should have reported it," she whispered. "They'll dig up all of my history and completely annihilate our family name. And it won't _end._ There's centuries of history for them to pick apart, and I don't want them to. I want for us to craft you a new reputation, and then I want us and Megaera to live in _peace._"

"It shouldn't come to that," said Severus firmly. She sulkily moved herself out of the hunched position, her eyes wide. "You went through the records with me. This has happened to your ancestors hundreds of times, and barely any of them were ever held accountable. I won't walk away from the case, I'll lead them in the wrong direction. I'll come up with some sort of hoax explanation like Mathilde did, and they'll accept it." 

"They'll expect you to do that," she said dully. "Lily and James. They won't trust a word you say now they know it's because of me. This is all because of me." 

"No, it's not."

Idina met his eyes. "I know that it isn't because of me on a logical level. But I just feel anxious and guilty all the time. I'm scared of it being my fault. And I'm scared of other people thinking so too." She wrapped her arms around herself. "What are you going to do about the Marauders?"

"They don't know, only suspect," Severus pointed out. "In fact, _I_ suspect that they suspect. I know it might not help you feeling anxious, but this is really very little to be worried about." She didn't look convinced, so he ploughed on. "More importantly, even if they did know, they wouldn't say anything. They're under investigation themselves, and now they've been found out for using Reid for their work. If they admit to trying to have us locked up and indirectly condemning Reid as a result, their careers will be finished. It won't be difficult at all to make it seem that their investigation into us was for purely personal reasons."

"In your memories, she didn't seem that selfish," said Idina, beginning to slosh water all over herself. Her tone had calmed, but it wasn't necessarily an improvement; she sounded sedated, or sleepy. "And James is wealthy. Do you really think they'll prioritise their jobs over exposing me?"

_An excellent point._

"Don't think about that," Severus said, at last. "We won't get anywhere psychoanalysing them in circles." Normally, any sort of order would make Idina bristle, and she definitely wouldn't appreciate being told not to think. Thankfully, she seemed much more docile as she was currently. He suspected she was emotionally exhausted. 

"What should I think about, then?"

"Just relax for tonight. We can discuss more when you're feeling better."

She sniffed. Her eyes were still tired, but calmer. "Will you wash my hair?" 

"Alright." 

They stayed there in silence for almost an hour after he had finished, until Severus' damp robe sleeves had dried and Idina started shivering. He took the towel.

"Come on, get out. You're cold, and your fingers are all wrinkled."

Again, she consented without complaint. She put on warm pyjamas, slipper socks, and an old, thick jumper of Severus', but still the shivering did not stop, even when she was lying in bed under the duvet. She sniffed again, new tears brimming.

"Is this maybe a curse?" she asked, breath hitching. "It isn't normal to shake so much."

He didn't think it was a curse for a moment, but cast a spell that would detect any. It wouldn't hurt to humour her. "You're under a lot of pressure, and have been so since you were young," he said gently, when the spell turned up negative. "You're _still_ young, really. It's not surprising that the stress has overcome you." He hesitated. 

"What is it?" she asked sleepily. It didn't surprise him that Idina remained as observant as ever amidst her distress. 

"Might you see a professional? Someone like Clarissa?" 

Idina was silent and still for a while, like a little statue laid on a pillow. She looked like the illustration of Briar Rose in Megaera's fairytale book with her blonde hair tumbling around her head like a halo. 

"Everyone knows you are a Death Eater, so you can discuss your pains and problems freely," she said softly. "But I can tell no-one about what troubles me, because it is a secret. Except you," she added, and she looked at Severus with naked love in her eyes. He flushed, but did not look away.

He stayed by her side until he was sure she was sleeping, his mind whirling. He could not be more grateful for Idina's love, but he didn't want it to come about because she felt he was the only person in the world she could confide in. Such relationships were dangerous, as Lily had taught him all too well. And he was not a professional. He could not provide Idina help like a Mind Healer could, and was in fact mentally unstable himself. 

And she hadn't really confided in him, when he thought about it. He had had no clue that she was so close to breaking down until it reached an unacceptable point.

Deciding that this wasn't helpful for him to think about in the present moment, he stood up slowly, careful not to jolt her, and went to play with Megaera. Both he and Idina were anxious that she did not become neglected whilst they were wrapped up in research and each other. They had bought her a "potions kit" for young children - the liquid didn't do anything but change colour when it was stirred or something was added, but it was still a good way of familiarising her with basic techniques. He wondered when she would be old enough to be taught properly. She was intelligent and exacting, and enjoyed following specific instructions that he gave her. He would see her become a first-class potioneer.

"Put in the beetle," he instructed. An actual Reduction Potion would be sky-blue by now, but the fake one was lilac. Megaera, of course, did not notice this, simply exclaiming "beetle!" delightedly.

There was a sudden knock at the door, one that he did not recognise. He frowned.

"Door," Megaera said helpfully.

Severus nodded as whoever it was knocked again, swiftly picking her up and taking her into her bedroom. He regretted waking Idina, but he didn't know who would be at the door at this time, and it was likely to be someone dangerous. 

"Severus?" she asked, eyes tired. "What time is it?"

"Around seven," he said quickly. "There's a person at the door, and I thought better to leave her in here with you."

"Hello," they called in. The sound drifted eerily in Severus' tiny flat. 

Idina wrapped her arms around Megaera protectively. "Do you recognise the voice?"

"No."

"Do you want me to come with you?"

"Stay with Megaera for the time being. They may not be dangerous at all." 

Idina nodded, although she looked unconvinced. Severus admitted that he wasn't feeling especially optimistic about the prospect of a guest either.

"Hello?" called the voice again. 

"I'm coming," said Severus irritably, stalking out of the room and swinging open the door in one movement.

He didn't know the man in front of him, but he felt like he did. He had Idina's eyes, and Atalanta's smile, and auburn hair like Nana Helen's. He was tall and good-looking, and his smile was friendly. Most importantly, he had an earring; a singular one, made of a heavy silver metal, and depicting a pitbull with a serpent tongue.

"I'm very sorry to interrupt your evening. Theseus Clayborne," he said, smile only broadening at Severus' wide eyes, "and apparently, my little cousin lives here."


	36. Masks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus and Idina investigate their visitor.

"She never mentioned a cousin," said Severus, allowing just the right amount of coldness into his voice. He had no intention of turning Theseus Clayborne away - _especially_ as the man was apparently impossible to find, and had now helpfully turned up on his doorstep - but he had none of being welcoming, either, if he was part of Potter's plan. 

"Our family situation was quite fragmented," said Theseus. His voice was accented, but his English was perfect. When Severus' expression did not change, he ran a hand through his fringe, tilting his head so that all of his curly auburn hair flung about. _I can see why he and Potter get along._ "I honestly didn't know she was still alive. My father was convinced that none of the girls in that house would survive." 

"Well, he was quite wrong."

They both turned. Idina stood in the hallway. Her eyes were still wide and pensive, but she had washed her face, clipped up her hair, and changed from her comfortable pyjamas into a black silk robe. Severus could see that she was still feeling fragile, but it certainly wasn't immediately obvious. Theseus' eyes widened. 

"You must be Idina," he said. "I'm afraid I don't remember you. I never actually knew that there was a third sister."

"There wasn't," said Idina. "Atalanta is in St Mungo's, and I go by Idina Brass, here. I trust that you understand the need for privacy, hence the false name you gave Severus. What was it?"

"Theseus," said Theseus, "Theseus Clayborne." Severus wasn't sure if he was persuaded by Idina pretending she hadn't heard the name before or not. "And yeah, you're probably right. We shouldn't call each other by our real names in company." 

Severus scowled at his reduction to 'company', but Idina continued smiling. "Well, come in, then," she said, with the same, fixed expression. "Would you like tea?" 

"Are you sure you're up to this?" Severus murmured, as she walked towards the kitchen.

She gave him a scalding look over her shoulder and jerked her head in a way that was clearly supposed to imply that he should engage with Theseus. He sighed, but gestured him into the living room. He had crept along like a frightened child in the corridor - Severus wondered if he was scared of the portraits - but now he walked in like he had been there many times before, inspecting the room before sitting.

"Nice place you've got here."

"There's no need to lie."

Theseus blinked like Severus had thrown something at him, and then roared with laughter. 

_Yes, I can definitely see him getting along with Potter and Black._

"I'm glad Pe- _Idina,_ sorry - is with a bloke with a sense of humour. That said, this place really is a lot nicer than mine, if it's not dripping with gold and jewels and tapestries like I was expecting."

"You may have exaggerated ideas of my wealth," Idina said pleasantly, three mugs of tea trailing behind her. Severus wondered if she would mention that this wasn't her house. It wasn't really his business if she planned on supporting her cousin, but it might give him some understanding as to the level of closeness between them. She hadn't recognised the name Theseus Clayborne, but there was definitely history between her and the man in front of her. "I seem to remember that your father was a little too interested in the family money. It was the reason that our families eventually quarrelled, was it not?"

"That, and, well - _other things."_ Theseus was staring, eyes fixed, at the door. "Can - can they hear us?"

"The portraits here are all perfectly amicable," said Idina calmly, giving him a rather superior look. "Of course. I had forgotten that my father took you and your brother to the portrait room when we were all young, and the - impression - it made on you. My apologies."

Theseus' face was ashy. "But then - where are the others?"

"Back at my father's house," Idina lied coldly. "Would _you_ have taken them with you?" she asked waspishly, when he blanched. 

"Well, hell," said Theseus. His eyes were wide. "Of course not. But I didn't think that you _could_ just make a decision like that. You know." He lowered his voice. "Because of the _curse."_

Idina flinched.

"Idina-" Severus began, but she had already risen from her place.

"I have to tend to Megaera," she said quietly. "I will be out soon. Please don't feel obliged to leave, Theseus; Severus will converse with you while I am busy." 

They watched her leave in silence. Severus could have hexed Theseus, but he had no intention of giving the tactless, obnoxious man any leverage at all. He did at least look apologetic, shifting in his place in discomfort.

"Touchy subject, huh?" he said at last.

"Something you could have perhaps expected."

"I thought she could deal with it. I mean, she grew up around it."

"Hence why she finds it difficult." Severus tried to keep the biting tone out of his voice, but the words alone were enough for Theseus to fling himself into embarrassed regret again. Severus eyed him for a while before deciding to relieve his discomfort. If things carried on as they were currently, Clayborne would bolt, and they had little to no information on him, yet. "Your own interactions with the portraits affected you, no?"

Theseus' friendly, open mask shattered. The face crouching behind it was broken and vengeful, and so sinister that Severus' hand moved to his wand.

"You can't imagine," he said, at last. "I don't know what you know, but it doesn't matter if she's told you everything. You still couldn't imagine." Severus remained silent. It was best that Theseus couldn't guess how much he knew about the portraits. 

His shadowed expression suddenly cleared, and he sat up abruptly. "You're right, I shouldn't have brought it up with her. Will she come out?"

"I don't know," Severus said neutrally. It was best that Theseus had little to infer from in terms of their relationship and characters, too, although he was probably finding Severus exceptionally disagreeable at the moment. That was fine; it was probably what he had been told to expect. 

If Theseus was thinking that, he didn't show it; he just looked relieved. "I hope so. I'm glad to see her. I was thinking of moving out here, actually, so we could get to know each other again."

"Is that so," Severus murmured, hoping that he sounded inquisitive instead of suspicious. _I wonder where this desire suddenly sprang from._ "I think you mentioned that you weren't previously aware that Idina existed? How did you suddenly find out?"

He saw, if only for a brief moment, something flash in Theseus' eyes. He hid a smirk. Clayborne was not a very good liar; he was clearly carrying tension in his body, and it was obvious when his answers were prepared. "I saw her in _Witch Weekly,"_ he said, "and I thought that she must be family. My father died ages ago, and so did my brother, so I flew out here to try and find her."

"How very brave," said Severus lightly. Theseus smiled; if he had known Severus better, he wouldn't have taken it as a compliment, but he couldn't be faulted for that. The Marauders should have prepared him better. "It must be expensive, moving to a new country," he added, remembering Theseus' comments on finance.

"Yeah," said Theseus, casting another, furtive look around the flat. "I'm pretty hard done by. Idina's side of the family had all the cash. But I should be fine - I've got some mates here that are helping me out. I actually need to get going to meet them soon - I'm looking at a new place."

Severus sipped his tea, no longer needing to feign his interest, and asked as many follow-up questions as he could. Idina wasn't here - and he thought it unlikely that she would come out - so it was up to him. Luckily, he had a hunch as to who Theseus' new "mates" were.

* 

Idina came out as soon as Theseus had gone. Her eyes were red and sore but her mouth was set. "I was listening," she said, before he could ask. "I just didn't think I could retain my composure while I did so."

Severus nodded. "Any immediate thoughts?"

She shrugged delicately. "I didn't know him very well, really, so I don't have much to compare him to. Our fathers fought when we were all quite young."

"About money?"

"About the curse," said Idina, in clipped tones. "His father resented the idea of the family head - partially because it did mean that he controlled the family finances. As close relatives, they were reliant on my father for any shares of the fortune."

"I imagine he didn't oblige."

"No. He told Theseus' father to work. He was, I think, but the family were still struggling. His wife was ill, and unable to work herself. I think by the end that had all got twisted with the curse as well. Theseus' father thought that the portraits controlled every aspect of our lives."

"Did he die to the curse?"

Idina was very still, but she eventually nodded. Severus sighed.

"It explains why Theseus is so angry and frightened about it, especially if he too blames it for his mother's illness."

"Do you think that's what he's going to testify about?" Idina's voice trembled. "The portraits and the curse?"

"You implied that you had some control over it when you said that you left them in your old home-"

"That's even worse, because the horrific thing isn't gone," said Idina shakily. Her hands were still, at least. "Even if we get rid of it before the trial, the timeline won't match up, because of Thomas Reid. We also don't know the exact nature of the story they'll tell. There's no way we can think of a convincing lie that will counter exactly what they're saying."

Severus smiled. "Well, we _could_ try and find out."

Idina tilted her head. "How so?"

"Who do you suppose his new friends are?"

Idina sniffed, tossing her hair back. "I don't believe that nonsense about _Witch Weekly_ for a moment. It's a British publication, and he's hardly the target audience. Not to mention that he apparently _upended his life_ for a familiar looking woman on a magazine. No; your Auror friends found out about him during their investigation into me, and contacted him."

"He said he was meeting his "friends" again tonight," Severus reminded her, a smirk slipping across his face. "A most unfortunate thing to let slip. I presume they haven't told him of my Memory Tracking Potion."

Idina laughed delightedly. "Can I use it this time? I've been wondering what it feels like."

Severus cast her a glance, and decided that asking her if she felt up to it would only upset her further. "Very well. We can take it together. I brewed enough for two dosages the other day, and I'm curious as to what a joint viewing will turn out like. Was your emotional response just now to Theseus himself?"

Idina swallowed at the question, but she shook her head and answered readily enough. "No. They were more memories of the curse, not feelings about him."

"You'll have to concentrate on Pettigrew too, then," said Severus. He scowled; he had been hoping that she would have a strong connection to Clayborne. He had no particular desire to see Pettigrew shivering in bed at Grimmauld Place. "We'll just have to hope that we haven't missed their meeting."

"I daresay they've a lot to discuss after the evening he spent here," said Idina, looking offended at the very thought. "Where's the potion?"

*

_The room was spacious and richly decorated, with house plants everywhere, but it was a strange line between gaudy and homely._

"You can't do much about bad taste," Idina said, eyeing the colourful cushions that Pettigrew was crouched on with a wrinkled nose. She had looked uncomfortable at the effects of the potion, but interior design she could sneer at seemed to have roused her. "This isn't the house from your memory. Where is it?"

"Look on the walls," said Severus shortly. The green-eyed, dark-haired baby was plastered all over them. "This is Lily's house."

_"Come in, come in," he heard her say, as if summoned by her name. She walked into the room in a dress that made Idina sniff all over again. Theseus followed her; Pettigrew at once jumped to his feet, fixing the man with a look of hero-worship Severus recognised from his schooldays._

_"How was it?" he squeaked. "Not too trying, I hope?_

_"They weren't bad hosts, to tell you the truth," said Theseus, with a grin. Lily - interestingly - pointedly ignored Pettigrew, and he shrunk back into his seat. Theseus tore his earring off almost savagely, throwing it into his pocket with a violence that made Idina's lips purse. "Well, Severus wasn't, at least. Dear Penthesilia hasn't changed one bit. She's got a perpetual pole shoved up her arse."_

Idina's eyes flashed. Severus wasn't sure if she was reacting to his use of her old name, or his description of her, but he wouldn't want to be Theseus when she finally exacted her revenge on him.

_Lily sniffed. "What, Sev was nice?"_

_"Not nice exactly. He had his own sort of unique charm. I reckon he's a dangerous bastard when he wants to be, though."_

_"I've never really witnessed this famed 'unique charm' of Snape's, although I've heard about it plenty," said Potter, striding in like he owned the place. He technically did, in this instance, but it annoyed Severus anyway. He clapped Theseus' back, smiling broadly, and kissed Lily on the cheek. "Did you talk to them about the curse?"_

_"Penny flounced right out when I mentioned it, although she did say one thing that was interesting. I talked to Severus a little about it too, but I doubt he knows much."_

_Lily shook her head stubbornly. "He_ definitely _reacted to Thomas' bones today."_

_"Maybe he was just responding to the bones, Lils. They weren't a pretty sight."_

_"I know him. He was taunting me. He_ knew _that Thomas died because of this family curse." She turned to look at Theseus. "So she just walked out? Why? What did she say that was interesting?"_

_"Took offence at me asking, probably. They always were mysterious about it. But she said that the portraits are back at the old ancestral home."_

_Potter's face had taken on a greedy look. "Maybe we could go there, try and study them-"_

"No,"_ said Theseus hoarsely. "Trust me, you have no clue what you're dealing with."_

_The doorbell rang. "That'll be Padfoot," said James, practically jumping with glee. "I'll get him." Lily followed him out to the door; as soon as she left, Theseus' face changed at once. Pettigrew stood._

_"I've made preparations," he hissed. "I still think we should tell Sirius-"_

_"No," said Theseus, voice cold. "He was the one that broke when James interrogated us last time."_

_"He didn't_ break. _He dislikes lying to them. Their friendship is very-"_

_"Friendship or not, he can't be trusted." Theseus' voice was impatient. "Now shut up, they're coming back."_

The tremors started. Idina gasped, throwing out a hand to steady herself. "What's happening?"

"It's discharging us," said Severus shortly. This was beyond frustration; he wanted to know Theseus' true motivations, and he was sure that Peter knew more about them than Lily and James. "Try and remain present for as long as you can-"

_"-the preparations-" Pettigrew said shrilly-_

The potion spat them out.


	37. Happiness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Good news forces Severus to realise how much he has changed, and Idina receives a warning.

Work the next day seemed even more bitingly mundane than usual. Severus was savagely precise, bored and frustrated into a sort of maddened perfection; he wanted the business with the Marauders to be over, and he wanted it over _now._ They had always been extraordinarily talented at ruining his life, and somehow, they weren't even the most worrying players in this particular game. Pettigrew was annoying and weak, but he was a marked Death Eater, and Severus had no allusions as to what that meant. He would go further than Lily and Potter and even Black would be willing to. And Theseus … he was an unknown variable, and potentially a highly dangerous one. 

He glowered down at the finished Renewal Potion he was brewing and stalked his way over to where the ingredients were kept. The cupboard, as of this morning, was swathed in tinsel. Any other time he would have insisted Hannah take her stupid decorations down, but right now, they were the only thing keeping him at all mentally stable. They reminded him that Lily's Christmas party was not too far away, and that once they had Black's blood, he and Idina could capture Pettigrew and finally be free of the Marauder's mean-spirited schemes.

"Severus?" asked Hannah warily. She had gotten used to Severus' dipping moods and habits by now. On most days, he tolerated her chatter, and sometimes it was actually quite nice, now that he had something of a life to talk about as well. But she knew that after his therapy - and when he was like this - silence was preferred unless it was necessary to talk. 

"Yes?"

"There's an owl here for you."

Severus sighed. It must be worse than he thought if he was so wrapped up in himself that he didn't notice an owl. He only tensed further when he recognised the bird; it was Echo's, and as efficient as his master. Severus took the letter as he set his ingredients down.

"Good news?"

"I hope."

_Dear Severus,_

_Wolfsbane is a success._

Severus breathed out, relief hitting him like a punch.

_Two applicants (the oldest) reported that it almost felt like a conversation with the 'wolf', and that it required strength of will to resist. It would still have been impossible without the potion, however. The rest of the test subjects felt completely in control of their own minds, and (apart from their canine bodies) like they would any other day._

_They are immensely grateful. I would propose a meeting at Miss Chantelle's to discuss strategy going forward._

_Echo_

Severus could have shouted with joy. Additional Opaleye scales - as he suspected might have been needed - would hopefully solve the problem that two of the test subjects had reported. And if Echo had correctly identified that this was an issue with older werewolves - which this study was not at all enough to prove, but might become apparent - then that was absolutely fine. Grown adults could ingest far greater quantities of dragon scales than toddlers like Lorna. 

His instinctive reaction was to write to Roberta and Caroline, but he tempered it. Echo had wanted control over how the news spread, and whilst he believed that they would be discreet, he didn't actually know them that well. He could always break the news to them later. 

When he arrived home from work, it was to a very sticky Megaera. She giggled, raising a flour-dusted hand as a way of greeting. He raised an eyebrow at Idina. 

"The research wasn't working, and she was bored, so we made pizza the Muggle way," she explained. Her tone was haughty, but her eyes were bright and sparkling; she had clearly enjoyed herself just as much as her giggling daughter.

"In dress robes?" he asked in amusement, taking in her dramatic attire. The silken dress robes were embroidered all over with a complex silver pattern, and bejewelled at the cuffs. They had been pristine despite the cooking, but she was now holding a squirming Megaera, who was successfully painting flames on the mouths of the thread serpents with tomato sauce. 

"They help me think," she responded, gently pushing Megaera's hand away. "And thankfully, you're just in time to help me wash her."

Megaera laughed delightedly, squirming all the more. She had apparently hated baths when Idina first had her, so Caspian had found a special brand of bubble-bath. They foamed up large as Quaffles, all differently coloured and scented, and made noises when they were popped. She now adored bathing, although the tantrums when the bubble-bath ran out and she had to have ordinary water were extraordinary.

"My mother used to wash me in the sink," he recalled, as he set the water running in the tub. Idina looked horrified.

"The _sink?"_

"It's fairly common with Muggles, and babies certainly don't mind it."

"Babies don't mind anything with water," said Idina haughtily. "Or most don't," she added dryly, looking down at her daughter. 

Severus smiled as Megaera followed a purple bubble with her fists. It was teasingly floating out of reach each time. "I'm hoping that the pizza is good after all this."

"I burnt it," Idina admitted. "I'm not used to cooking the Muggle way. But no matter. How was your day?" 

"I received news from Echo," he said, unable to stop his face lighting up with the news. "The Wolfsbane worked on all of the test subjects." Idina smiled, completely and widely, and flung her arms around him. He blinked, caught off-guard. "I still need to meet with him tomorrow to finalise things-"

"Be proud of yourself for a moment," she said firmly. She lent her head against his chest. "This is _such_ an accomplishment, and it means that we can really begin rebuilding our lives together. Oh - have you told Roberta and Caroline?"

"I was going to wait until tomorrow, after my meeting."

"Oh, they're going to be so happy. Caroline was in pieces this morning. Werewolves aren't usually as young as Lorna is, and she really badly injured herself last night. They're terrified that one full moon will be too much."

Severus looked down at Megaera, splashing and giggling in the water and trying to catch the enchanted bubbles, imagined her going through a trying and potentially fatal ordeal every month, and swallowed. Idina looked down, closing her eyes when she realised what he was contemplating.

"It's a horrifying thought, isn't it," she said softly.

Severus nodded, surprised at the way the mere prospect of Megaera suffering had struck him. "I started on this project with the hopes of ingratiating myself with Lily's friends-" Idina laughed, shortly and bitterly -"and raising my own social standing. But I think I really do care about it, now." 

"Anyone would think you were surprised to have feelings," Idina teased.

"I am," he said honestly, recalling multiple therapy sessions at once where Clarissa had attempted to get him to see outside of his own interests and emotions. "I don't think I would have had the capacity to empathise with other people like this even a few months ago."

"Well, you haven't just made progress with potions," said Idina, eyes dark and melting. "Come - let's try and put Megaera to bed early, so I can reward you for all your hard work."

However wonderful a reward had sounded the night previously, Severus regretted his lack of sleep as he set out for Miss Chantelle's early the next morning. He would have liked to be alert as possible for his meeting with Echo. She showed him to a meeting-room herself; a much nicer room than the one she had given Lily, and with more refreshments too. 

"Thank you for your letter," he murmured.

"It's not a gesture I take lightly," she said, meeting his gaze with an intensity that surprised him. He had never seen her look anything other than pleasant or playfully amused. "Be wary." 

Severus did not have as much time to contemplate that as he would have liked, because Echo was already there, tucking into the selection of cream cakes. "Severus," he said, putting down his éclair and reaching out to shake his hand. "I bring with me a message of thanks. While the community in general have yet to be told, the test subjects haven't heard good as news as this in a long time. Their gratitude will be felt up and down the country once the news spreads, I'm sure."

Severus inclined his head. "I am glad to help. What did you wish to discuss today?"

"The financial practicalities," said Echo, shuffling his papers, "and the actual release of the news itself. How expensive is Wolfsbane to make?" 

"It's not cheap," Severus said. He saw no point in lying. "Especially every month."

Echo nodded, his facial expression not betraying any of his thoughts. "As I expected. The transformation affects them all massively, of course, but Wolfsbane could also potentially lead the way to lycanthropes being accepted in professional and social settings. But if the only people that can pay for it are those with enough money, the werewolves really suffering from unemployment and isolation won't be able to reach it. The wealthy ones already at least have some form of support - either from inheritance, from family or a spouse, or the ones that are lucky enough to have a job."

"Is there some sort of charity scheme that can be set up?"

Echo nodded again. "You can put your name on it, as no doubt you could do with some good press." Severus arched an eyebrow, but Echo swept on unruffled. "However, I insist on myself being part of that, as well as at least one actual werewolf. The Wizarding World would be more than happy to pat you on the back if you were helping the community in name only and not actually putting the work in, but _I_ will not. It's my job to represent and care for this community."

"As you do admirably," said Severus shortly. Despite his tone, he meant what he said; Echo was incredibly devoted, especially as he was - as far as Severus could tell - an ordinary Muggle. "I have very little money of my own-" 

"There will doubtlessly be donors, and we can make money off the very announcement, too. The main issue is that the Ministry is likely to oppose anything that helps the community as much as your potion could."

Severus grimaced, remembering Dolores Umbridge. "Leave me some time to think on that. I might be able to sort it out."

Echo eyed him, but the success of the Wolfsbane seemed to have made Severus more trustworthy in his eyes, because he didn't push it. "Very well. Owl me if anything comes up - as I will you, of course. Now, for the release of the news. I imagine you want as big a performance as possible."

Severus glowered. "There is nothing I want _less_ than a performance. However, my circumstances render it necessary."

"Do you really need to be liked?" Severus restrained himself from openly glaring. It seemed that Echo's trust came with his curiosity.

When it became clear that he was waiting for a reply, Severus responded, if as coldly as he could. "I don't need to be liked, no, but being hated is an inconvenience." Idina and Megaera came to mind, and he relented further. "And it would be good to be liked. For those in my life, if not myself." 

"Very well, then. To be honest, the bigger we go, the more money we'll make, and that's important. I spoke to Chantelle already about contacting different publications. Naturally, they're all very interested in the story." He turned over his papers. _"Witch Weekly"_ have expressed an interest doing a personal interview with someone involved-"

"Not with me," said Severus flatly. He did not plan on having my photos taken in pastel robes, he didn't want a Charming Smile Award (nor did he consider himself in the running for one), and he didn't have recipes to recommend or hair or makeup tips, either. "But I originally took on the project because a young couple asked me."

"With the toddler, yes, I remember. I suppose you're not really very _Witch Weekly_ suitable." Severus longed to ask whether Echo considered himself to be so, but didn't. "Would either of them be willing to do it?"

"I can ask them," Severus said. He didn't think Roberta would, but Caroline might be persuaded to. He imagined that she was similar to Idina in that she'd enjoy having her photos taken and manipulating her public image. "What other publications have you contacted?"

"Well, _the Daily Prophet,_ of course. It's absolute rubbish, but it's rubbish that carries a lot of weight with the Wizarding public. Because of that, we'll have to tread carefully with Rita Skeeter-" 

"-if you really insist," Idina said, as he opened the door. She took her head out from the Floo with a haughty expression as he put down his bag. "Really, your friend Lily is _beyond_ rudeness."

Severus scowled. "She's not my friend. Did she want to speak to me? What about?"

"I 'would do', apparently," said Idina, her tone making it clear that it was a quote. "It was a plea to not attend the Christmas party. She's worried it might be dangerous for us." 

He frowned. "She _was_ very cold to Pettigrew in the vision we saw. Is it possible that she suspects that something more is afoot?"

"I don't quite see how Theseus and Pettigrew's plans can be much worse than getting us locked up in Azkaban," said Idina, tossing her hair back. 

"The distinction would matter to her," said Severus, rubbing his forehead distractedly. After his meeting with Echo, he wasn't particularly pleased to meet another mystery as soon as he got home. "Did she seem worried about the party specifically?"

"Yes," said Idina, after a moment's consideration. "Why, do you think they have something actually planned?" 

"Probably."

"Well, we need Black's blood, so we're going - as I said. We knew that we had to be careful anyway. How was your meeting with Echo?"

"It's likely that I'll have to do an interview with _someone,_ at least," said Severus sullenly. She hid a smile. "And he told me to ask Caroline or Roberta about _Witch Weekly."_

Idina laughed delightedly. "Carol's vain as a peacock, she'd love it. We should Floo over there if we're allowed to tell them now. The news can't come soon enough for them."

"You get Megaera, then. Is Lorna well enough to play?"

"Probably not, but they'll at least be able to babble at each other. You go get her; I'll tell them we're coming."

"Let me have a shower first," he suggested, not wanting to reek of potions at Grayroad Manor. "You can tell her now, if you'd like."

"Not at all - you invented it. I'll just let her know that we're coming and then go and change these dress robes, as Megaera got tomato and bubbles all over them. Do you prefer my green or purple ones?"

"You have far too many robes in both green and purple for me to answer that question."

She cast him an offended look, lamenting that it was impossible for her to choose, but she had managed by the time he had stepped out of the shower. They were deep green, with magnificently puffy sleeves. He felt a little underdressed in his own, which she could perhaps tell, because she squeezed his hand reassuringly as they stepped through the Floo.

"Severus," said Caroline warmly, embracing him as if they were close friends. She was elegantly dressed in pale blue robes, but he could see tension and tiredness in her eyes. He might not have noticed if Idina hadn't mentioned that she had been distressed lately. Roberta was wearing robes too, but her own sadness was far more plain. It seemed cut into her face, like a birthmark or a scar. "Please, come in."

They were seated in the comfortable living room, although the atmosphere was generally very melancholy. It felt like anxiety was plastered all over the walls. Lorna was asleep, and heavily bandaged. 

"Poor dear," said Idina, jogging Megaera soothingly on her hip. "How is she doing?"

"She has quite a few cuts and scratches," said Caroline, voice detached and clinical. Roberta moved her hand to cover her wife's. "They're going to scar. But the biggest issue is that she's got multiple fractures and broken bones, and some splinters. A young baby's body simply isn't built to handle the transformation, Healer Moonbrow tells me. We're just lucky that she hasn't done serious damage to her neck or ribcage yet."

"I'm deeply sorry for your ordeal," said Severus. He took a breath, the news suddenly hard to say. Idina nodded encouragingly. "But I think I might have something that could help you."

Roberta's head jerked, tears of hope already beginning to shine in her eyes. "You don't - you haven't-"

"I have developed a potion called Wolfsbane. There's only been one test, but it has worked on all the subjects. More tests will have to be done, but it should at least ease her transformation, and I will have you supplied with some for next month."

Roberta immediately buried herself in tears, but Caroline, as expected, was far more composed. She was clearly shocked, and Severus could see her eyes glassing over, but after a few seconds she managed to speak. "This is a debt we cannot possibly repay. You do not know how much her suffering has pained us, nor how much we have feared each transformation." 

"I do not wish for repayment," he said, realising as he said them that the words were in fact completely genuine. It made them feel precious somehow, like sweet snowdrops that melted off his tongue instead of being spoken aloud.

He took a step back after that. There was something strange in his stomach as he watched Caroline jokingly proclaim that her photoshoot would be nicer than Idina's (something that Idina passionately contested) and Roberta sing to Megaera and a now awake, although clearly rattled, Lorna. It wasn't until dinner had been served and he was stuffed full of toffee pudding that he realised that the feeling might just be that he had never done this before. He was part of a family, and that family had visited another family, and there was love and laughter and joy all round. Even the thought of the interview he would have to do couldn't shake the warmth he felt. 

_Perhaps this is how I'll be able to feel all the time._


	38. Tension

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus struggles writing a letter. Lily's party comes with a surprise.

The next few days passed in a blur of letters and tinsel. Idina would never hang something so vulgar in the house, of course, but she did put up fairylights and glowing jewels, and the two of them constructed a Christmas tree that was too big for its own good. It would have looked grand in her beautiful manor house, but it practically swallowed Severus' living room. They had to sidestep to the sofa, but she adamantly refused to shrink it. Christmas spirit was needed in turbulent times, she said, even if it was several feet too tall, and the times were turbulent indeed. The papers - as expected - had gone wild at the announcement of Wolfsbane, and it had incited a massive public response. Too busy to even look through the letters from people they didn't know, they used the hate and praise alike as kindling through the cold nights.

Severus was at his desk - which had relative freedom from the grasps of the tree - composing a letter to Dolores Umbridge. He had thought on the matter plenty. She had already agreed to Wolfsbane; the thought of taming the wolf made her feel important, he thought, even if she had nothing to do with the potion. At least, it reinforced her ideas over the superiority of witches and wizards to magical creatures. Severus shared that feeling of superiority, if only in terms of his preferred subject over others. He doubted she could stop a werewolf from charging at her with a wand, but Wolfsbane dismissed that as a problem entirely.

_Of course, it's highly unlikely that Dolores Umbridge can brew Wolfsbane, either._

He brought his mind back to his letter. Yes; she wouldn't have an issue with the potion. He had already managed to secure that. But Echo's plans of distribution … he frowned. That had been her initial worry - that the outcasts, the working class werewolves with no connections, would be able to gain social acceptance. He had looked over Idina's notes on her career in the Ministry. Most of her early years had been spent making it remarkably difficult for werewolves to gain employment. She had also pushed through some loopholes in the law that made it legal to offer them poor pay and less rights, on account of them being "inherently and unfortunately unreliable" due to their commitment to the full moon.

Yes, she wouldn't like Echo's plans at _all._

The easiest path was clear. Idina had insisted he withdraw himself from Echo's charitable organisation, reminding him that he was employed by the Ministry. It would indeed put him in an extraordinarily difficult position if and when they decided to take umbrage with the distribution of Wolfsbane. They had the power to throw him in Azkaban, and he did not think for one moment that they wouldn't do it on trumped up charges should he prove a nuisance. He ignored the viciously sour taste that giving up the opportunity because of his sentence filled his mouth with. He simply did not have time for that at the moment, and he also could not change it.

All that was necessary to be done, then, to rid himself of the problem, was to send that letter to Echo, and let _him_ deal with Dolores when she became an issue. Severus wasn't sure what she might do, but he thought it likely that has would attempt to bring the distribution under the Ministry's control. For the safety of the citizens, of course. Echo - probably - could deal with that. And if not, it wouldn't be Severus' problem - and he was powerless to do anything anyway.

He wanted to write the letter to Echo saying that he was withdrawing from this moment forth. Really, he did. And it wasn't a matter of wanting; this was important. But he found himself doing anything else instead, and by the time dinner had come, he only had written,

_For the concern of Miss Dolores Umbridge,_

and

_Echo,_

*

The letter remained mockingly unwritten for the next week. It made Severus want to grind his teeth. He considered discussing it with Clarissa, but he knew what she would say; that he was struggling with the idea of leaving Umbridge to Echo because it weighed on his conscience. That wasn't a conversation he wanted to have. He _also_ knew what she would say about him hiding things from her, but it seemed silly to say that he couldn't write a letter like it was a bigger problem than his days as a Death Eater. It wasn't to do with his morals or his mental state. It was merely a matter of principle; this wasn't Echo's problem, and it wasn't fair for Severus to back out

_That isn't it. Echo is more than capable of handling himself._

"You seem very distracted lately," said Idina, frowning at him. He thought she would have picked up on it more if she wasn't so distracted herself; she was working frantically to try and counter Herpo's spell, even more desperate to be free of it since her breakdown. She couldn't articulate it very accurately yet, but he gathered that she was making progress.

"Just thinking about the party," he said lightly.

She pursed her lips. "Oh, yes. I presume you have some sort of strategy sorted out?"

"Of course. It's simple anxiety, is all; not a logical worry."

"Worries rarely are," she murmured, but she dipped back into her work instead of asking, for which he was thankful. It wasn't entirely a lie, either. The thought of tomorrow made his stomach twist.

That night, he dreamt of Lupin as the werewolf; the gnashing teeth, the howls. He dreamed of Lorna in her bed, bandaged and sleeping, and suddenly he heard Megaera's cries. The image shifted, and Lorna's fluffy blonde hair turned into Megaera's darker curls; Megaera became Harry, and then a baby that looked suspiciously like Severus himself-

He wanted to gasp in bed, but kept his lips firmly bitten closed. It wouldn't do to rouse Idina, so he regulated his breathing.

His dream did, at least, tell him what his crisis of conscience was about. The sight of Lorna had upset him. And even if Caroline and Roberta were more than capable of accessing Wolfsbane - not only because Severus was a family friend, but because they had ample finances to purchase it - he was beginning to think the way he was supposed to think, seeing people outside of his immediate social circle. What about other families with babies? What about child werewolves that grew up like Severus did?

He didn't want to dwell too much on the sight of Lupin as he had been that night, because he knew it might become too difficult to pretend that he was fine. Idina was a light sleeper. But that shouldn't be forced upon anyone - either as the wolf, or someone forced to live with it - because of money.

But he couldn't say that to Dolores Umbridge.

*

Idina walked around Godric's Hollow as if the very stones were beneath her. They looked it, of course; she was dressed magnificently, with her hair twisted into a shining and complicated knot and decorated with a complex arrangement of curving rubies. The effect was extraordinarily serpentine, which he had imagined she had done on purpose. She hadn't attended Hogwarts, of course, but she found the house politics interesting.

She had committed to the red in a way that most people would have been afraid to do, with lace red robes and dark lipstick. Megaera was in red too, although a much brighter shade; Idina's, fittingly, looked blood-coloured in comparison. Severus noted, however, that the robes were not as ostentatious and flowing as she usually liked, and were tight and low across her breasts in a way she usually felt inappropriate in a public setting. She was dressing for the other guests as much as herself, refusing to be the snooty Pureblood that Lily, at least, seemed to have decided she was.

Severus' robes were black, although Idina had asked that he commit to the family theme a little. He was sure the Marauders would have plenty of fun talking about him dressed in red before the day was out. They were snakes, at least, embroidered in red and silver over the shoulders. His robes still didn't compare to Idina's - they were the usual black, if a little more fitted - but that was fine. He had never claimed to be the fashionable one of the couple, and his clothes made clear that he was part of the family, but still himself, which he was more than happy to get across.

The knocker was lion-shaped - _of course._ Idina cast some Revealing Spells over the door, and then rapped it smartly.

"It wouldn't do to be hit by some other nasty spell upon entering, after all," she said, sniffing at the peeling paint around the wood.

The door swung open; it was Lupin, and by the look on his face, he had caught the end of her comment. Severus was rather surprised to see him in person in an ordinary setting; he had only seen him stony-faced at the trial, and in his dreams as a beast. This Remus wore bright but shabby robes, and a worn jumper underneath them, and was smiling nervously. Even his amber-gold eyes looked merely hazel in this light.

"Severus," he said, tone pleasant. Severus arched an eyebrow, even though he had been expecting for Lupin to be the most polite one of the three. "And you must be Idina. I've heard plenty about you."

"I'm sure," said Idina. Her tone was warm, and all of her disapproval at the front of the house had disappeared from her face. "And I you."

Both too polite to imply that nothing they had heard had been good - even if it was true - they filled the walk with careful chatter about the weather and Christmas-time and family. Severus remained silent, holding onto Megaera, who was unusually silent scrutinising the house. Unlike her mother - who was concealing it very well, but Severus was sure she was making plenty of comments in her head - she seemed to like the bright colours.

"Severus," said Lily, rising at once. She was wearing dress robes too, a lovely green that brought out her eyes, and delicate pearl earrings. "And Idina and Megaera, too. Please, sit down."

Severus surveyed the room carefully. Potter and Black. Shacklebolt and Moody. A pale woman draped in a shawl who was desperately trying to catch his eye, and someone who looked quite a bit like Marlene MacKinnon, but couldn't be. He imagined a relative. She looked drawn, and gave Severus a half-poisonous, half-miserable look that suggested the Death Eaters had killed _someone_ in her family, at least. He resolved to ignore her for the remainder of the night.

The spaces were thankfully next to Shacklebolt, which at least guaranteed some civility. He rose to his feet to shake Severus' hand with vigour, turning to Idina with just as much enthusiasm. "Of course! We met over the fire one time-"

"Quite. I understand you work with Severus in some capacity?"

Severus inclined his head to the woman next to him, the one in the shawl. She gave him a melting smile and gushed at him that her name was Emmaline Vance, and _how_ was rehabilitation going, and so much _progress_ had been made since his trial, and she did think Wolfsbane was _wonderful..._

"I wanted to thank you for Wolfsbane, Severus," said Lupin suddenly. "I don't know how it will affect me exactly, but it's a step."

Severus touched the lining of his robes, where he was keeping the vials to present to Lupin for his gift, but merely nodded. "Of course."

"A very ethical choice, Snape," said Potter brightly. "Fascinating how people can change, isn't it?"

"Well that's what I was saying," interrupted Emmaline. "I mean-" _A lot more sincerely,_ Severus thought, staring into Potter's mocking eyes. He declined Lily's offer for a drink; both he and Idina were avoiding consumption as much was possible, although they would probably eventually have to take something in the name of politeness. Her expression said that she suspected exactly why he had denied it, but she didn't appear offended, at least not to anyone but himself and probably Potter, who also knew her well. He and Black were murmuring quietly already.

Severus pursed his lips. It was going to be a long night indeed. He devoted himself to considering his letter to Dolores Umbridge as the discussion swivelled around to werewolves; perhaps it would provide him with inspiration, and was more useful than their chatter.

"So lost in thought," Idina murmured. She looked amused.

"Well, there's hardly much here to think about. Yet." It was far too early to try and draw Black's blood. He and Potter were both watching him, even if they looked as if they were staring at each other.

Idina shook her head, and then subtly jerked her chin. Severus looked up, and almost jerked. He was glad that Idina put a restraining hand on his arm.

"Severus, Idina," said Theseus, flashing a smile. "It's great to see you two again. Aw, is this the baby girl?"


	39. Gifts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus puts his plan into action.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: very brief mentions of blood

Severus clamped down on his shock and rose out of his seat, keeping his voice cordial and pleasant as he greeted Theseus. This was a completely unexpected move from Lily and the Marauders, if only because it was so incredibly stupid. Without the Memory Tracking Potion (and _that_ was untraceable - he had invented it, after all), Severus and Idina didn't yet have any real reason to suspect that Theseus was working with them. Why would they lead him and Idina to suspicion? 

_Perhaps you have merely overestimated them._

Or he could have _under_estimated them. Maybe they had always suspected that Severus and Idina would presume that they and Idina's surprise cousin were connected. Theseus had come up rather abruptly, after all. 

Severus let the implications simmer at the back of his mind for a while as Idina got up to greet Theseus. His time as a Death Eater had made him a master of analysing and performing at the same time. Idina, however, was stiff as she held out her hand, and her eyes wary and guarded. When she accepted his greetings, it was with the air of a noblewoman receiving a gift she didn't particularly like. Severus winced. It was no wonder that Theseus strained her façade - he was a reminder of her past, a threat to her life, and a wound to her pride all in one - but a slip could not happen here.

"You don't look very happy to see him," he murmured, as Theseus was poured a drink and the rest of the guests bustled to hear how he knew Severus. Lily's feigned surprise was good. Potter's, of course, was lazy, but in a way that could be passed as disinterest. Black was obviously over-acting his shock, and Lily very noticeably pinched his shoulder to make him stop. Severus frowned. Yes, they were idiots, but they _must_ be trying to arouse his suspicion. They were trained Aurors.

"I'm not," said Idina, as petulantly as she could make a whisper sound. "What is he _doing_ here? This is madness, even for them."

Severus nodded curtly. "Yes, but don't act too suspicious of Theseus. I'm still don't understand what they're trying to do. He told them that you were arrogant-"

"Indeed he did. I remember his crude wording too," said Idina, wrinkling her nose spectacularly. 

"Play up your supposed superiority to him. It's the best way for them to take the way you greeted him." He remembered Lily's letter. "Not enough to get thrown out." 

Idina sniffed, but nodded. "Is your plan to extract the blood not affected?"

"Not by him." Severus cast an eye around the room. "But have you noticed that nobody except Vance and Shacklebolt are drinking anything but Butterbeer?"

She pursed her lips. "Well, I suppose we couldn't expect them to just get merrily drunk with us in the room. That does make things more difficult, though." 

"It'll be fine. I'll just have to add some additional steps." Whatever they were doing was irrelevant. Perhaps it was nothing more complex than trying to throw him off. He briefly brushed his hand against the box of vials again and then - just to test it - he brushed his finger against the smooth side of one of the glassed. The skin immediately tore. 

"That many Cutting Charms won't make a pretty sight of Black," said Idina, who had been watching closely. 

"Are you particularly worried about that?"

Idina inclined her head. "Point taken."

Severus nodded, mind burning with adrenaline.

This would all end once he had the blood, and then Pettigrew. 

* 

"Pass the potatoes, would you, Sev?" asked Lily brightly. "Harry likes them, don't you?"

Harry made a noise of appreciation at the spoonful. He had finally awoken from his nap and was wearing a large Santa hat over his messy hair, to the cooing of both Emmaline and the McKinnon-lookalike. Emmaline had been similarly infatuated with Megaera (so had Theseus, but Idina had been so icy that he gave up talking to her altogether), but the other woman hadn't interacted with them all evening, excluding the venomous looks. 

Black chuckled, stealing the hat so he could ruffle Harry's hair, and attempting to put it on himself. Harry giggled up at him with wide, green eyes; it was clear that he already idolised his godfather. Severus' lip curled.

"It's meant for a _baby's_ head, Padfoot, and yours is swollen as it is-"

"Are you seriously stealing from a child?"

"He should be more vigilant," said Black smoothly, looking down at Harry in mock disapproval. "Mad-Eye will tell him."

Moody sat upright immediately. "Well, I do say, never too young-"

"He's _two,_ Mad-Eye," said Lily, firmly.

"What does your training program for toddlers look like?" Potter grinned. "And at what point will Sirius be qualified to join?" 

Black opened another Butterbeer amidst the laughter up and down the table, eyes alight as he focused on his next retort. Severus smirked, and gently flicked his wand in the appropriate movement beneath the table. He thought Idina might have noticed it. Moody didn't seem to, which is what he had been most worried about. It was lucky that he had been drawn into the conversation. 

Black took a swig, and then put it down. Severus tensed for a moment, wondering if he had noticed anything amiss, but he merely wiped his mouth and gleefully rejoined the banter. Over the course of dinner, he had two more; Severus hesitated on enchanting the third, but Black hadn't seemed to notice anything so far. He shouldn't, really. Severus had only been increasing the alcohol content enough to get him tipsy. 

He would wait until dessert for anything else. 

"I think that's enough, now," Idina murmured. Black was by no means ill in his drunkenness, but it was clear in the way he spoke and his erratic movements. "How much did you put in his trifle?" 

"Not much at all. I suppose he can't handle himself very well." 

"That's right - you're turning into an old man, Black," Moody echoed, apparently overhearing some of their conversation. "I wouldn't think one of you young'uns would get drunk so quickly!" 

"What have you even _had,_ Padfoot?" asked Potter, frowning at him. 

"It's Christmas," Black slurred. Lily pressed her lips together; Severus hid a smile. Black had managed to make it sound as if he had just flouted what had clearly been an imposed no-alcohol rule. 

"So it is," said Shacklebolt, clapping him on the back. "Just the time for drinking! In fact, Lily, why don't we have a toast?" 

Lily hesitated, and her eyes flickered to James - both of them, like Lupin, had abstained from anything stronger than Butterbeer all evening - but there was no way for her to refuse Kingsley without hinting to the hidden tensions in the room. She nodded politely. 

"What will you have, Severus?" He chose a cheap drink he remembered having with Regulus - it tasted horrible, of course, but the alcohol content was just enough to get two teenage boys drunk if they chugged down enough of it. If Shacklebolt decided to encourage everyone to drink further, or anyone else for that matter, he could continue to drink this without becoming particularly off-balance. 

__

"And you, Idina?" 

__

Idina made a performance of surveying the array of drinks - most of which _were_ much better quality than Severus had chosen, but the tilt of her chin was perfect. "Just water, thank you." 

__

Lily's eyes flashed, but she gave Idina the water as if she didn't catch the implications of her stare. "We can open presents after the toast," she said brightly, inciting cheers from the room. "Has everyone put their gifts under the tree?" 

__

Severus and Theseus both got up. Severus put down the bag holding his vials; Theseus a long, rectangular package. He gave Severus a slight smile as he collapsed back into his seat; Severus returned it as Kingsley began his toast. 

__

_Not long, now._

* 

__

"I've never done a Secret Santa before," said Idina contemplatively, rearranging her skirts around her so that they pooled attractively. "Is it customary to sit on the floor?" 

__

Severus smiled. "I haven't really done enough myself to know." 

__

"You _are_ a sweet couple," said Emmaline, who had clearly had one too many drinks herself. "Odd, but you'd expect that, wouldn't you?" 

__

Idina's smile became rather fixed. Potter looked happy to let the conversation play out, but Lily hastily started handing out the presents. Kingsley was first to open a handsome leather-bound journal, which he thanked the room for appreciatively. Severus noted that it seemed to be custom here for each person to open their present with all eyes on them, rather than everyone grabbing and tearing at once. 

__

"This one's for you, Severus," said Lily, handing him a sloppily wrapped package. He opened it to see the words _Olde Potions by H. Dagworth_ written across an obviously ancient cover. 

__

"It was in the family library," said Potter, tone bored. "Its supposed to be rare. The potions were old when it was written, so they're beyond ancient now, but I thought you might like it." 

__

"Thank you," said Severus, through gritted teeth. He turned the book over to examine, hoping to find something wrong with it, but it remained irritatingly perfect. He resisted the urge to snap, knowing that Potter had probably only given him such an excellent gift because he knew it would annoy him. 

__

"Harry's technically your Secret Santa, not me." 

__

"You're ruining the game, Prongs," said Lupin, shaking his head in amusement. 

__

"This is yours, Remus," said Lily, before the giving could be derailed any further. Lupin took the bag carefully and drew out the vials just as cautiously, as if he was already aware that he was holding something precious in his hands. 

__

"The first vial is for you. I don't have a one-potion carrying case," Severus explained. Lupin's face paled as if he had guessed, but he drew it out and held it to the light. 

__

"Is this - it isn't-" he said faintly. 

__

"Consider yourself supplied with it for the foreseeable future." 

__

Lupin shook his head violently. "It's far too much - I've read the price estimations in the papers-" 

"The Ministry pays for all my ingredients, and I'll be making a monthly batch anyway." Severus softened his voice a little, identifying some of the emotions crashing through his golden eyes. "Accept the gift, Lupin." 

He swallowed. "Yes. Of course. I didn't mean to sound ungrateful - thank you, Severus." 

The room was very quiet for a moment. Lily had gone very still, hands folded over one another, but now she cleared her throat. "Of course. And who's this for? It's for you, Emmaline-" 

"Could we have some music?" asked Idina brightly, after Emmaline had finished thanking the room from her perfume set. "It's a lovely festive moment, don't you think?" 

"If you're happy with what we have," said Lily piercingly, but she agreeably turned on the radio. It began playing a jaunty tune, clearly popular, because several people joined in with the lyrics at once. Severus drew his wand, ready to Confund Black if necessary, but it turned out not to be. He at once yanked Potter to his feet and attempted to twirl him. 

"What are you _doing-"_

"Come on, you can't have music and not dance!" Black picked up Harry instead, who waved his arms in appreciation. The McKinnon girl, surprisingly, got up next. 

"We're opening the presents," said Lily, but she was clearly giving in. She had always loved music. "Well, give me back my husband, then. We can dance for a bit." 

Severus smiled as everyone rose to their feet (with, of course, varying degrees of willingness). He waited until Black had veered slightly to the left and Moody seemed occupied being encouraged by Shacklebolt to dance, and then sent a quick Tripping Jinx, ready to grab Harry if necessary. It wasn't; Potter grabbed both his son and Black's arm, a combination of his Quidditch and Auror training coming into play. Severus could have screeched in rage - someone might see if he jinxed Black again - but in the same moment, Idina flicked her wand and slammed the case of vials into Black's leg. 

He roared in pain and the music was abruptly turned off. Severus and Idina joined the concerned huddle as Black lamented his torn calf. 

_"Sirius,_ what did you _do?" _

"The vials, look-" 

"It was stupid of me to leave them there," said Severus, stepping in at once. _"Reparo._ I apologise, Black. I should have moved them before the dancing." 

"Not at all, Severus, it was a bit abrupt, and there'll be no harm done," said Kingsley jovially. "Nothing that a simple Charm won't fix." 

"No," said Lily, drawing her wand as Severus removed the case, "but honestly, only you could injure yourself like this at Christmas-" 

"James could." 

By the time Potter had finished his own defence, it was agreed that dancing would be put an end to for now, and everyone had settled again. Theseus was presented with a handsome quill and box of chocolates; the McKinnon girl received a bookset; Harry received a toy wizard broom from his godfather, and squealed delightedly with it; and Megaera a set of magical colouring pens. Lily at last drew out the thin package Theseus had placed down. 

"This is for you, Idina." 

Idina accepted it graciously, placing it in front of her with her wand and casting a simple Revealing Spell on it in one, fluid motion. 

"There's no need for that," said Lily, her 'pleasant hostess' voice evidently strained. 

"You'll forgive me," said Idina calmly. 

"No need to," said Moody, from the corner. 

"It's just a habit that's been ingrained in me," she continued, although she did offer Moody a grateful smile. She cast a second Revealing Spell, this one for potions and toxins, and backed away from it as it glimmered purple. 

Vance's eyes widened. "But that doesn't mean-" 

"Who was my Secret Santa?" Idina asked coolly. 

The room tensed as one. 


	40. Selfishness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Events spiral out of control, forcing Severus and Idina to make their most difficult choice yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: death, battle, flashbacks (to death and battle)

Severus drew his wand, ready to place some Anti-Apparition wards on the door, to see that Moody and Shacklebolt were already doing so. He shrugged, returning it to his pocket. It _was_ their job, after all, off-duty or not. The tension, however, did not leave his jaw, and a fluttering numbness was spreading from his stomach to his chest.

_"Crucio!" Macnair bellowed, and it hit Potter square in the chest. Severus paused on the battlefield, a whirling sense of satisfaction holding him still, until the other Order member, a woman he did not recognise, flung a curse at Macnair and he was forced to react-_

He drew Megaera close to him. Moody and Shacklebolt both spun around at the movement, but turned away upon realisation. Severus himself was wound tense, his eyes darting around the room. This was _not_ a raid, he reminded himself, but it could quickly become a battle. And just as he had once protected allies, now he had to protect his loved ones. And Megaera - innocent, and helpless, and incapable of understanding - in particular. He had no doubt that Idina could handle herself, especially now. She rose to her feet with her dress robes pooling about her like spilled blood, eyes harsh and glittering. 

"Well? Who was my Secret Santa?" she repeated calmly. 

Lily stood also, face pale. "You weren't with Severus when I invited him - at least, to my knowledge. You weren't in the mix. Nobody had you." 

"And you gave me the gift anyway?" Idina's head tilted softly. "You didn't find it at all suspicious?" 

"No," said Lily. Severus could see her scrambling for a lie clear as day; she had always been too honest. Black came to her rescue, but too late. 

"It was Theseus' gift," he said coolly. Severus pushed the implications of _that_ to the back of his mind. He was watching Theseus out of the corner of his eye - he had seen him place the gift, after all - but he remained perfectly still, despite the mention of his name. "I heard him tell her so. That's not strange, they're relations." 

"Theseus who didn't know I was coming?" asked Idina, and she smiled again. "Well, I'm sure you've given your superiors - charged with the protection of civilians such as myself as they are - plenty to think on. Come, Severus. We are no longer welcome nor safe in this place." 

Theseus shot to his feet and Severus glimpsed - for a moment - his face. It was shadowed with the sense of pure isolation and all the emotions that came with it; pain, hatred, suspicion, violence, fury. He had seen it a thousand times on his comrades. 

_Macnair was laughing horribly, but not for long; Potter had recovered, and the sight of the pile of flesh that had once been his colleague had enraged him. He lunged; for the first time, Severus was in the vicinity, but not his immediate target-_

He hissed through his teeth. The flashback had lost him that precious moment of reaction time; Theseus had flung his curse, faster than Severus thought Idina might respond- 

_Macnair screamed and staggered, clutching at his face-_

Kingsley and Moody had both raised their wands. Potter, Vance and Lily were only a second behind; Remus and Black were next. The curse was deflected by someone - he missed who - but that wasn't what Severus was worried about. He realised, with sudden and sickening clarity, what was going to happen- 

_Regulus couldn't look at Macnair that night. It wasn't the sight of his face, skin raised and raw in small, close-together pustules, which both Narcissa Malfoy and Nott found displeasing, but what he had done to the female Order member that Severus could not name._

_"Don't you think that some spells shouldn't be used?" was what he had said when Young Severus asked him about it. He hadn't the heart to ask him about potions._

Theseus was there, and then he wasn't. His skin simply melted away like it had never been there, and left was a skeleton that looked like it had been soaked in dry oil. 

There was dead silence, and then the McKinnon-lookalike started screaming. Potter tried to put up the anti-Apparation wards that Kingsley already had and then, upon understanding that they were already there, decided that glaring hard at Severus and Idina would suffice.

Severus forcibly clamped down on his nausea, and murmured to Idina, "are you still determined not to tell the Ministry?" 

"This has only strengthened my resolve."

"Then step away from me quickly. We both have parts to play until we have more proof."

Idina's eyes were vulnerable and pained, more than he had ever seen them. Severus tried to swallow, but it didn't work. He didn't feel like he was on a raid anymore; he felt uncomfortably in the present, immersed in sharp and bloody _love,_ and all the emotions that _that_ brought. Like sympathy, and desperation, and pain. 

"You can take Megaera if you flee," he suggested, guessing where at least part of the pain in Idina's eyes was coming from.

"I stand little chance of fleeing. Now; you be the one to step away. You're horrified, remember." She tried to smile her usual dry smile - but it was broken and piteous, stuck in her own worry like glass embedded in skin. "Do work quickly, Severus. Promise me." 

"Of course." And then he gasped suitably, flinching away from Idina as if she disgusted him. He saw, in the way her eyes flickered, how she wanted to react. Instead she forced herself to stand still, regarding him coldly. 

"Whatever is the matter, Severus?" 

"You did react oddly to my telling you about Thomas Reid," he said softly, and saw Shacklebolt's head jerk. Severus let that reaction simmer in his mind. He was good at his job, but he was also under considerable pressure. Hopefully he would accept the easy explanation Severus and Idina planned on offering him. 

_Hopefully._

"You were under no illusions on who you were getting involved with," said Idina contemptously. "And I doubt he was either, unless they failed to brief him properly before they sent him scurrying after me." 

"You know perfectly well that I was under illusions. Else, you would not have lied to me about that _extraordinary_ Dark magic-" 

"I didn't _lie."_ Idina looked down her nose spectacularly, and she was acting magnificently; pure, cold arrogance shining on her face, mixed with just the vengeful fury and disappointment they would be expecting to see. "But I saw no reason to burden you with my actions, entangled as you currently are with the Ministry." Her eyes sharpened, and so did her voice; cutting and cruel. "And now, that is as trapped as you will remain. Your betrayal of me, with your prattling of truths and Dark magic, is as much a betrayal of yourself. It is a pity. You could have been _so much-"_

Severus summoned her wand. Her face contorted, and when she spoke next, her voice shook with surprise that he knew was really pain. "So I see. I hope you will enjoy a life only made extraordinary by the incredible isolation you plan on experiencing." 

"And I hope you enjoy a cell in Azkaban," growled Moody, who was beginning to close in on Idina. The other Aurors patterned his movement, a cautious circle. "Snape? Can she enact that curse wandlessly?"

"I would guess by its nature that she cannot." 

The Aurors took that as their go-to, and he thought that Idina had been right when she said that she stood little chance of fleeing if she tried. She carried the air that she was only allowing herself to be taken away, however, although most in the room knew the truth of the matter.

He turned his face away as Idina was arrested and marched through the Floo by Moody. She was still playing her part magnificently, he was sure, but he could not hope to do the same. His past and present were falling about his ears, and he understood nothing of what to do.

_Pull yourself together,_ he told himself sternly. 

He still had the best of his part to play.

*

"We should take Snape in for questioning," Potter was saying. "Do we have Veritaseum?"

"He could brew us Veritaseum."

"Don't be stupid, that's a conflict of interest if I've ever heard one, and who could tell if it's the real thing-"

"You might have to wait until his trial if that's the case. Stocks are running low, Dolores gets through it like water-"

"Shacklebolt, come on, this is a high priority case-"

"Severus to me looked very pale," said Vance, right on cue. "I don't think having him hauled in for questioning is the priority right now."

Severus sighed, rearranging his mind before the inevitable attention. They were all there together talking, apart from the McKinnon, who had been soothed through a panic attack by Lupin and was now sitting in the corner. He would have preferred to slink away and begin work on brewing the blood potion, but they would simply have followed him, and it would make him look guilty. No - he had two (three at a push) sympathetic faces in the crowd huddled around Theseus' body, and he would play up to them. It left a very sour taste in his mouth, but he would be the godforsaken and fragile genius if it bought him an evening of time. Megaera had been very tired from the party, and all the confusion and tears from Mama being taken away had sent her off to a rather restless sleep. He had to do this, for her and Idina and himself. Severus' hands shuddered where they held hers. He wondered if Caroline and Lorna would take her for the night; they would be familiar faces for her, and give her constant attention and care that he could not afford while he was brewing.

"Someone get him a drink, then," said Remus worriedly. "Strong tea-"

"I already did," said Vance, with an edge to her voice that suggested that they should have thought so already. "And he looks very pale, he's had a dreadful shock same as all of us, and he's not an Auror or an Order member-"

"No, he was on the other side," said Potter darkly, "and he can swoon onto the sofa all he likes, he was fine seeing Reid's bones the other day." He turned so he was facing Severus. "And if you knew Idina was involved, you should have said."

Severus curled into himself, giving Kingsley such tragic eyes that Lily rolled hers and Vance winced.

"I did not suspect until later, when I spoke of it to her," he said, keeping his voice quiet and faint. "And after that, I was afraid of what all parties might do."

Kingsley's face was grave, but his tone when he spoke was surprisingly gentle. "They're Aurors, Severus. It's their job to be in danger. You shouldn't have withheld information from them because you were afraid of Idina's actions."

"You have no _idea_ of what she's capable of," said Severus hoarsely. "And I didn't know what they might do with it. I know that they wanted me in Azkaban, and that's why they sent Reid after Idina in the first place-"

There were various noises of disparagement from the circle, but Black's face was drawn. He didn't look drunk now, but cold and angry. "Shut him up," he said arrogantly. "He's talking nonsense. Emma was right, he's gone in the head. One of us will escort him home and bring him in tomorrow."

Severus would have dearly loved to have plunged them into further trouble, but as it was he needed to take whatever opening he had to get home, so he remained silent.

"I'm not sure he is," said Shacklebolt, a frown beginning to furrow. "What do you mean, Severus? Why would they want you in Azkaban?"

"Because of our history," said Severus piteously. Lily's jaw bulged dangerously. "I only ever wanted to brew. I was _happy_ in my new job, but then they threatened me, and Idina promised to help-"

"Oh, come off it," said Potter, in disgust. He was torn between contempt for Severus' supposed weakness and awareness that it was most likely an act, and every bit of it showed in his eyes. "He _said_ he'd be happy to show our superiors - he's a little snake, same as always-"

"Severus never showed me a memory," said Shacklebolt sharply.

"I was afraid," said Severus innocently, injecting just enough mockery into his voice to invite an explosion. He was surprised, however, that it came from Lily and not James.

"Afraid?" she burst out. _"Afraid?_ You were waiting to use it just when you needed it, didn't you, when your _horrendous_ new girlfriend showed herself up and you needed something to get yourself off the hook - because you wouldn't take the arrest proudly like she would, would you - you've always been far too selfish and pathetic to even _dream_ of somewhere like Azkaban without pissing yourself in bed! But it wasn't a threat - it was just a promise. One day, you _won't_ be able to worm your way out of it." Her lip trembled, eyes green and glassy. "And that day will come. Oh, it will come."

Severus closed his eyes and looked tortured. He doubted he would need to do any more than that, and he was right; Shacklebolt drew himself up, quivering with righteous indignation.

"Emmaline, can you take Leda home? All you three, stay here and _sober up - _ Remus, you too. There'll be more communication on all this when we have actually questioned Severus properly. Severus, come with me. I'll take you home - you're not to leave there, as you are still under suspicion, and someone will be coming to speak to you tomorrow."

"Is there no way we can make a stop? I don't trust myself to look after Megaera in this state, and there are some friends-"

"Which _friends?"_

"Sirius, enough. All three of you are staying far away from this case, there's too many personal grudges and emotions flying about. Very well, Severus - where are we going?"

"Grayroad Manor," Severus said distractedly. "Am I in trouble? Am I going to Azkaban?" He glanced at Lily, and said softly, "she's right. I really don't want to." Potter's fists were clenched. 

Kingsley put a hand on his shoulder. "Save talk of that for tomorrow, Severus. All you need is a good night's sleep."

Severus nodded as he stepped through the Floo, deciding that swaying on his feet would be too much, although his thoughts were burning and racing like fire in his skull.

_I will not be sleeping tonight._


	41. Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus goes to Grimmauld Place, determined to free Idina as soon as possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, so I set up a patreon for my poetry blog as I've had to stop working due to the current situation: https://www.patreon.com/meganspoetry 
> 
> If any of you like my writing and are in a position to help, maybe check it out? There aren't any A03-specific benefits on there because I don't want to disadvantage any readers who can't pay; the best part of fanfiction is that it's free and accessible to everyone, especially right now. But you can still commission poems and short stories, and receive special deliveries like letters and gift packages, plus tons of other benefits! There's lots of different tiers so plenty of variation in price as well, the first three are all under £10.

_"Azkaban?"_ said Roberta sharply. "This is outrageous."

Caroline came forward to put a hand on her wife's arm. Her eyes were shrewd; Severus was sure that she had assessed the situation from his demeanour, which was hopefully evidently false to anyone that knew him. "This is indeed a shock," she said calmly. "Our apologies, Severus. It seems that we haven't been particularly attentive. But of course we will take Megaera for as long as you need, and help in any other ways we can." 

"Now that I'm the only one in the house, I might need you to take her while I'm at work," Severus admitted, making sure that his voice was suitably piteous and faint. It wouldn't fool Caroline - and was clearly confusing Roberta - but Shacklebolt was still here. "But other than that, I think I'll be fine. This - this will all be sorted out as soon as possible, I'm sure."

Roberta took Megaera, holding her as gently and capably as she would Lorna, and went to set her down. Caroline stood surveying Kingsley, who was staring suspiciously back. The sharp intelligence was alight in her cold, green eyes. However, she didn't seem to find anything particularly interesting about Kingsley; she turned to Severus instead. 

"What would you like us to say to Megaera when she wakes up and doesn't understand?" she asked at last. 

Severus did not have to fake his expression this time. He closed his eyes. What would Idina want her to know? Finally, he said, "tell her Mama is away, and I'm coming to see her tomorrow. I might need you to look after her, but I will visit."

Caroline put a hand on his shoulder. "As I would expect. And Severus"- her eyes were sharper still -"ensure that you do the right thing from now onwards." 

Severus inclined his head. "Of course." 

Kingsley left quickly, which Severus was glad of. He didn't want to waste any time. The potion he had chosen was quite complex, although not much of a struggle, and supposedly unpleasant to take. 

He swallowed. The potion wasn't _incredibly_ complicated, but it still required focus. And focusing was difficult. He couldn't shake the feeling that he had abandoned Megaera, even though he knew she was sure to be comfortable and happy with Caroline and Lorna, if confused. And Idina; although it had been their best shot, she would be in Azkaban, tortured by the worst of her memories. He wondered exactly what she would see. Her past was patterned with death, abuse and blood.

_That's why you have to do this right._

The sooner this potion was brewed and Pettigrew was captured, the sooner he'd be able to put the rest of the plan into motion. But even though he knew that, their faces swirled in his mind as he worked; not a distraction, but not exactly as a motivation, either. His anxiety simply remained present in his mind, from the first tail of unicorn hair, to when the potion finally shifted to the thick red it was supposed to be. He added Black's blood within seven seconds, as the book detailed, and took it after seven minutes in one swallow, as it also instructed. 

His heart immediately seized. His eyes flashed white; black; colours in different patterns. He tried to disassociate from the strange cramping in his chest, but the pain was too great; it kept pulling him back into his body. When it finally stopped, he lay there for a minute regaining his breath, and then rushed to the mirror. There were no changes to his physical appearance, which was good. That was a sign that something was wrong, or that the potion had been made more permanent than it should be. He should have seven hours as a Black; no more, no less. He would have liked to rest a little while, but there wasn't time.

He needed this over as soon as possible. 

Idina's Apparition coordinates for Grimmauld Place took him a little outside the house. The walk was odd; he wasn't precisely sure _how_ the potion affected his blood and heart, but he disliked it. Although he still looked like Severus Snape, he _felt_ like he was in a different body. Looking at his hands and seeing that they were the same was disconcerting; it made him feel disconnected from reality. 

He stared up at the doors, feeling the tingle of Dark magic even here. If his potion had been in any way faulty, then this would likely be the end of him. At least, he'd be severely injured. This was hardly the best of plans. Perhaps Black's blood was affecting his character; some ancient philosophers (and many blood purists) had argued that blood was able to alter or influence personality. They were talking nonsense, of course.

This was all him. He was a Slytherin. That means that he knew that there were times when courage was required, points where the reward outweighed the risk. 

The image of Idina in Azkaban came upon him again. There was _no_ risk that cowardice was an excuse not to take. It wasn't so much a reward that he would be receiving, but peace of mind, and the safety of his love.

With Dumbledore's blue eyes twinkling in his mind, he pushed the doors open. 

He waited in the first corridor a while, awaiting the crash of wrath upon him, but it seemed that the potion had been fine. It was a mark of how anxious he was feeling that he had doubted it, really. If there was something for Severus to feel confident in, it was his brewing.

He looked around critically, murmuring, _"Lumos."_ Grimmauld Place was a fairly large property, and Pettigrew could be anywhere. Thankfully, he announced himself, his whining, wheezy voice travelling down the corridor.

"But _James-"_

Severus hissed through his teeth, immediately drawing his wand. Was Potter here? He had been certain that they would obey Shacklebolt's instructions, which, now that he recalled all he knew about the Marauders, had been a very foolish assumption indeed. 

But as he edged towards the door - which was slightly ajar, allowing him to see the flicker of light from a fire - he realised that he was merely speaking with Pettigrew via Floo. Severus Disillusioned himself and stepped through the door as softly as he could.

"I think it's best that I just leave," Pettigrew was saying, his skin pale and sweaty in the dancing firelight. "If Theseus has been-" 

"Theseus tried to _kill_ Brass," Potter snapped. "He put a poison on the gift, and when she noticed it, he tried to curse her with illegal Dark magic. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

Pettigrew audibly gulped, and then said shakily, "James - we are old friends - surely you wouldn't suspect-"

"I _suspect_ that Lily was right," said Potter. "No, listen to me, you're not leaving, Peter-" he continued, over Pettigrew's indignant squeaking- "because if you're innocent, Brass is up for trial, and if Shacklebolt has any sense, Snape is soon to follow - and if not, I think there's more to discuss. I don't know how much you knew about what Theseus was really planning. Hell, I don't know if Snape was actually telling the truth in his trial about you and being a Death Eater. But I'm going to find out - barred from the case or not."

"You can't force me - I need to do the best for my safety-"

"You're safe in Grimmauld Place. Nobody can go in - and, thanks to Sirius, nobody can go out, either." Potter's face was grim, but there was a glimmer of satisfaction in his hazel eyes. "The wards are under his control, and he'll make certain that nobody except someone Black blood can enter or leave from now on. He'll bring you food when you need it. Goodbye, Peter." 

His face disappeared from the fire. Pettigrew was weak and trembling, and as he leapt to his feet, it was with the air of an agitated rat. "Damned woman," he choked under his breath, _"damned_ woman-"

Severus was not sure if he was talking about Lily or Idina, but he recognised his cue. He stepped out smartly, watching as Pettigrew's face grew paler still in terror. 

"Hello, Pettigrew," he said pleasantly. "Apparently, you can't leave, which rather spoils my plans. But I still have some questions to ask." 

It took twenty minutes to have Pettigrew bound to a chair and drugged on Veritaseum. He had always been such an exceptionally pathetic duelist that - if not for his Animagus form offering him a series of lucky escapes - Severus didn't think he would have survived service to the Dark Lord for very long, especially as a spy. But desperation made him rather cunning, and a better opponent than he usually would have been. 

Severus scowled. He didn't want to waste any time at all, since he would also lose the ability to leave the house as soon as the potion wore off. He hadn't expected that Black would have been able to do that, which was again stupid of him. He wished that he had had more time to plan this, and he wished that Idina could have been there. She knew more about wards, and probably would have foreseen this problem. 

But now wasn't the time for scolding himself. He looked at Pettigrew, wondering where to begin, and finally asked, "who hid you here at Grimmauld Place?" 

"James Potter and Sirius Black."

"Why?"

"They thought you were lying about me being a Death Eater, and thought they could clear my name if they investigated you."

Nothing new so far. But this didn't have to be new - if Severus couldn't extract Pettigrew as he had been planning, he had to make this interview as incriminating as possible, and as quickly as possible. He didn't think anyone would return here tonight, but the dynamic of this group was incredibly erratic. He didn't want to put too much faith in his own predictions, especially tonight.

"Who else knew that you were here?" 

"Lily Potter, Remus Lupin, and Theseus Clayborne."

"So they also aided you?"

"Yes."

"Willingly?"

"No."

"Explain. Why were they unwilling?"

"Lily and Remus suspected me. They thought that James and Sirius were letting their friendship and hatred cloud their judgement. Lily also felt that investigating you secretly was a betrayal to her promise to Dumbledore."

"What promise was that?"

"To help you assimilate back into society."

Severus ground his teeth. He already knew _plenty_ about that, and none of it was enjoyable to dwell on. "Very well. Who contacted Theseus, and why?" 

"They soon realised that Idina was powerful and dangerous, and they wanted her out of the way so that they could target you freely. They also felt that it was their duty as Aurors to imprison her. They did research on her and her family and realised that she had an estranged cousin. They contacted Theseus for questioning. He hated Idina and all of her family. None of them realised how much, but they knew that they could use it. They invited him here to help with the plan."

"What was their plan?" 

"They wanted to prove that Idina was using Dark magic, so they started investigating her. After the death of Thomas Reid, they began to feel it was too dangerous to go after her the usual way, so they told Theseus to put a Compulsion Charm on her gift. It would have been undetectable using most spells, and forced Idina to speak the truth."

_Hence why Lily gave it to her without consideration._

"That gift didn't have a Compulsion Charm on it, it had something else. Why was that?"

"Idina is too powerful, and she has no interest in making me useful to her. She might have been able to break out of Azkaban, or escape a sentence as you did." Even under Veritaseum, Pettigrew's slack face was sweating with fear. "And Theseus' hatred was not sated by the thought of imprisonment. We wanted her dead. So he put a poison on her gift instead."

"What sort of poison? Where did he get it?" 

"A special one designed to murder the head of a household. His father had been wanting to use it on his brother, but he died and Idina became head instead."

Severus frowned. "Did he not hate her then? Why did he not use it at that time?"

"He wanted to use it on her, but she left almost immediately, taking care to hide her identity. He didn't know where she was until James and Sirius contacted her then."

Severus glared. Of _course_ they wouldn't notice that their new friend was a deranged man who had been hellbent on murder since childhood. Potter had only just connected the dots on Pettigrew, after all.

"And the net curse above my door? Who was responsible for that?"

"Theseus, Sirius and I."

Severus sighed. There were plenty more questions to ask, of course - nothing was entirely clear yet - but he was on a time limit, and wanted out in case Potter or Black turned up or did something else. He had gotten the gist.

"So essentially, Pettigrew, you - alongside with James Potter, Sirius Black, and Lily Evans - contacted an insane foreign wizard with murderous intentions and invited him here, in order to help you have my girlfriend put in Azkaban so that you could arrest me? All to clear you of your Death Eater charges?"

"Yes."

"And both you and Black agreed to participate in at least one murder attempt?"

"Yes."

Severus considered for a while, and then hit him with an advancement on the Stunning Curse that would keep Pettigrew out of it for twenty-four hours at least. He was bound in the chair, and thanks to Black, he couldn't enter or leave, but that wouldn't stop him from turning into a rat and hiding somewhere. He wasn't even sure if the wards would even pick up on Animagi, although he doubted Pettigrew was brave enough to try.

He swept out as nobly as any member of the House of Black would, feeling vindicated in a way he hadn't for a long time, but it wasn't time for celebration yet. He still had a letter to write. So he Apparated home in prideful silence, without as much as a celebratory whoop to the dark sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You might have noticed that this is the penultimate chapter. Don't worry, there will be a sequel coming! The upload frequency will remain the same: one new chapter at least weekly.


	42. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus recalls breaking the blood curse as life goes on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: blood, panic attacks

_Idina slashed her palm, scattering the blood in a circle with quiet, savage precision. Severus had been worried that she might not be able to gather the necessary focus. Megaera could not be in the house while they did the ritual, of course, so they had dropped her at Grayroad Manor, but Idina had been incredibly anxious about being parted from her daughter since her return from Azkaban. She was on the road to healing, but not entirely, although you never would have known it by the steady way she guided her bleeding hand around the locket._

_Once the circle was complete, Severus thought he saw the dog's bejewelled eyes glow, although it might just have been a flash of light. He raised his wand, ready to act as soon as Idina performed the incantation; from what he knew of Horcruxes, it was best to act with immediacy._

_Idina opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She was hesitating-_

_The jaws of the locket began to open; the dog's forked tongue began to thrash. "Daughter," it crooned, "daughter..."_

"Idina? Idina!" 

Idina convulsed and gasped. She was panting, not breathing, and her face and hair shone with sweat when Severus flicked on the lamp. She tore at his flesh when he grabbed her hands as if trying to prove that his arms were an illusion, and he had to say her name a third time before she seemed to come to her senses.

An owl squawked at the window. Idina shuddered; Severus flicked open the window with his wand, saying the spell aloud and taking care to ensure that Idina could see every motion. The bird - rather huffily - flew in. Idina lent against his chest, quietened, although her breathing was still ragged and he could feel her shaking against him. 

"Who is the letter from? Black? Lily? Theseus?" 

"Theseus is dead," Severus reminded her gently, "and neither Black nor Lily are in the position to be sending letters, least of all to us. It's from Dolores." 

A little calmness came to Idina's face, enough for Severus to relax and read the letter. Although matters were not that simple (and, on a logical level, Idina herself knew perfectly well that they weren't), Dolores Umbridge was partly responsible for the imprisonment of both Potters, Pettigrew, and Black, as well as Idina's release. It had been almost entirely for personal gain. Severus had sent her the memory of Pettigrew confessing, and not Shacklebolt, after all, purely because the woman was so fanatically selfish. The only thing that could possibly contest her love for herself was her devotion to the Ministry - the reputation of which, as Severus had sorrowfully written, would be so easily tarnished if the culprits were not dealt with.

The uneasy exchange of favours had solidified itself into something of an alliance, which was swiftly evolving into a strange friendship which was potentially morally debilitating for both parties. She had sent horrendously frilly, bright pink baby robes for Megaera on her birthday - Idina, of course, loved them, although Megaera howled whenever they were put on as if in protest - and even agreed to back off on Echo's distribution of Wolfsbane over tea. Her letter, however, regretfully informed him that she _would_ be using Lupin's arrest to reinforce the anti-lycanthrope employment policies operating in the Ministry. 

Severus sent back a reluctant blessing. Considering Lupin had been arrested beside four others, none of which were werewolves, he doubted Dolores could do too much damage with it, especially as she had some new opponents. Caroline and Roberta had decided to try and eliminate as many obstacles as they could before Lorna arrived at them. "And you never know," Roberta had said one day at lunch, "she _might_ want to work for the Ministry some day." Caroline had shuddered, but consented that options should certainly be left open.

"Is she warning us of something?" Idina asked, tone still somewhat apprehensive. 

"Merely her new anti-werewolf angles," Severus said, rolling his eyes and putting it on the stand. "I'll tell Roberta, of course." 

"Maybe we should have them meet," said Idina thoughtfully, although she was still gnawing at her nails - a new habit, that she fervently denied having. "Caroline would knock all of that out of her, don't you think?" 

"You'll have to meet them without Lorna present, or she'll knock plenty more than her ideas out of her," said Severus dryly. "Although it's not a bad idea." 

Idina nodded, standing up, and shaking her hair out of her ponytail. "I'm going to bathe. I can't stand it when I'm all sweaty like this - I'll be quick, so I can get back to sleep." 

Severus nodded and lay back, staring up at the ceiling. Idina tended to get lost in baths - especially now she knew what it was like to go without - and he thought that unlikely. It didn't matter. If he hurried up and returned to sleep himself, she could lie in, and he'd look after Megaera in the morning. Idina's panic attacks came more when she had not received enough rest. 

_"I am not your daughter," said Idina steadily._

_"Don't try and argue with it," said Severus sharply. "Just cast the spell."_

_"Power," wheedled the locket. "Power … power beyond your dreams … power beyond the curse … I will give you so much power, and then you will have your freedom …"_

_"I already have that power," Idina whispered. "I already can be free. All we have to do is destroy you."_

_"The sooner the better," Severus hissed. Idina cast him a half-amused, half-annoyed look that caught him off guard - they had been rare since her return - and raised her wand._

_She began chanting in Greek. He understood the words, but after a while they mingled in his head. He wondered if that was an affect of the spell or simply the moment; seeing the woman he loved, so recently broken, facing the Horcrux of a man still infamous for his evil. She had been desperate to break the curse as soon as she entered the house._

_He wondered, now, if it would truly bring her peace._

"Do you think this will satisfy your need for revenge?" Idina asked, clipping her hair up in a complex knot. She beamed at her reflection. On her first day back, her hands had shaken so badly that she couldn't manage the hairstyle she had wanted, and it had had her sobbing until she fell asleep. Severus had tried to do it for her, but his hands were just as clumsy when it came to hair. He had promised he'd learn again with her.

He met her eyes now, the memory of that breakdown - and many others - placing a seriousness in his voice that didn't match her light-hearted tone. "Do you think it will make you feel safer?" 

She gave him a severe look, smoothing the skirts of her lilac robes. "That depends on the verdict, doesn't it?" She looked at herself critically in the mirror once more. "You don't think that we should have gone with colours that matched better?"

"You're matching with Megaera, and that's quite alright," said Severus dryly. He was dressed in pale grey robes that Idina had bought him. The material was expensive enough to make him look softer and gentler, instead of washing him out. "I don't think they'd trust it if I turned up in pastel robes, anyway. You're not the only one that thinks I'd do anything for vengeance." 

Idina swirled round at once, and placed her hand on his heart. "I think that only because I know what they nearly took from you. _Those_ people think you're falsifying your story." Her lip curled. "Still, when Pettigrew has been betrayed by Veritaseum - not once, but twice."

"The integrity of both our characters is likely to be under attack during this trial, remember," Severus reminded her. 

"I would not show hatred for such people in public," she assured him. "Disdain, of course, but not hatred." She smiled at Megaera, who was walking unsteadily towards them, and swooped forwards before she could fall down again. "She _is_ a darling in lavender."

"And getting even better at walking," Severus agreed, leaning forward to kiss Megaera's forehead. She giggled and reached out, hopefully reacting to the praise as much as the physical gesture. Her language, too, was seemingly improving every day. "Very well. Should we go?" 

_Idina finished chanting, and the blood began to spit, hiss and bubble, as if trying to get away from itself. That was Severus' cue._

_He cast the Fiendfyre._

_It was a spell he had used rather often, actually, if a few years ago; in the Death Eaters, there were few spells Dark enough to actually impress one's peers. Young Severus had used it often, if only for that purpose. He had been - rather smugly - of the opinion that anyone incapable of controlling the flames deserved to perish with them._

_Severus pulled himself out of his own thoughts, rather sharply. He wasn't particularly bothered about the Horcrux - the roaring of the fire was drowning out its whinging, anyway - but he couldn't afford to lose control of the spell. It had - predictably - taken the form of a lunging snake, and was in the process of wrapping the locket inside itself. A python, then._

_Herpo's voice began to shriek._

"To punish four great war heroes on the words of _that_ Death Eater and his harlot is beyond reprehensible," said Augusta Longbottom darkly.

"If you would keep matters to the subject at hand, Mrs Longbottom," said Selwyn, who did not look particularly impressed to have Severus back in her courtroom. "The subject being, Theseus Clayborne."

Augusta wrinkled her lips until Severus thought they might disappear into her face, but she consented. "I met him once, when I was paying a visit to the Potters. He seemed a nice young man - charming and happy - and he mentioned he was here visiting family, but never went into details about who. I daresay that he was aware it might be a sensitive subject for me." 

"A nice young man," repeated Clementia Staff. Clementia was arguing the Ministry's case, and, in Severus' opinion at least, misleadingly named. There was nothing merciful or compassionate about the woman at all - which, currently, was operating in his favour. "Charming, and happy. Yet we know he fired an illegal Dark curse at Idina Brass."

"Do we know that?" asked Augusta coldly.

"All witnesses of the moment - rarely - agree," Clementia said, without so much as a raise of one of her pale eyebrows. "We have Pensieve memories, all displaying the same incident. There is no doubt that that man attempted to kill Idina Brass once, and the evidence increasingly suggests that he tried to end her life not even two, but three, times." 

Augusta's nostrils flared. Idina had been surprised that the Ministry had contacted her - she had barely anything to do with the case, after all - but Severus understood why. Her hatred for Severus was so beyond apparent that every attack was plain - and next to Clementia's cold professionalism, she was coming off badly. Since Severus and Idina were pleading that they had been forced into their actions due to prejudice, having Augusta there to air her disgust supported their story nicely.

"The magic Theseus Clayborne used was hardly more dangerous than that that was used to kill _him,"_ Augusta said pointedly. "Where's the trial for Brass?" 

"Hem, hem."

Selwyn looked up, eyes creasing in irritation. "Yes, Miss Umbridge?"

"I believe the witness is referring to a case already solved and declared classified, Agrippina," said Dolores sweetly, in her new seat behind the Minister. "Isn't your role as judge to ensure that such things do _not_ happen in court?" 

"Are there any further questions, Lawyer Staff, or may we move onto another witness?" asked Selwyn testily. Her eyes suggested that she would be very happy to see someone else indeed. 

_The fire wrapped around the locket tighter. The metal began to hiss and melt, and shards of floating magic began to spiral away. Severus was struck with the horrific thought that that was where the screaming was coming from. Even for a Dark wizard, reducing himself to_ this- 

_The Fiendfyre lunged. Idina and Severus both jerked back on instinct, but it was coming after the mist that Severus thought must be the remainder of the soul … it snapped its blazing teeth, engulfing the magic in its jaws. There was still screaming-_

_And then there was silence, and the blood began to rise, sticky and thick, like water being tossed up by the wind._

The courtroom sat in silence. A thin smile, probably barely visible to anyone not in the witness' chair, had laid itself over Clementia Staff's mouth. "Is that all the evidence you have that Peter Pettigrew was in the service of the Dark Lord, Mister Snape?" she asked. 

"That's the end of it, yes," he said dryly. It had taken several hours for him to supply sufficient memories and anecdotes, but it was all well worth it. There was no way that a singular person in the room could believe Pettigrew's pleads of innocence now.

You could have cut yourself on Potter's eyes. Severus thought that it might have wounded him more than even his stay in Azkaban. 

Someone stood. Skeeter, of course, and her smile was broad. "Mister Snape, wouldn't you say that it's hypocritical to try and have Peter Pettigrew imprisoned for being a Death Eater, when you so recently evaded capture?"

"I am not here to decide the court's verdict," Severus responded, without looking at her. "I am simply providing it with the information it needs."

"Well said, Mister Snape," said Selwyn waspishly, "but if we could avoid interplay between witnesses and the press, I'd appreciate it. Well, if that's all-" 

"I'm afraid not," said a deep voice, from the back of the courtroom. Severus closed his eyes and counted to five, but when he opened them, the sight was still there: Albus Dumbledore, in deep purple robes, striding up the aisle. He smiled at Selwyn. "If you would please, madam, I'd like to address the court." 

_The blood continued to rise, stretching until the holes fell through, looking like gaping mouths; and Idina, apparently not lost in the horror of it, began to chant again-_

"Azkaban is a godforsaken place," said Dumbledore sorrowfully, "created to imprison the darkest of our minds. We, the court, have been entrusted with a great power, when asked if we would like to send this group of criminals there. I would like, for a moment, to contemplate their crimes. Mr Pettigrew, certainly, has fallen to a place I cannot vouch for. But what of his friends? Was their only transgression not to believe in him? If we were to hear that our friends, our family, had knelt in service to Lord Voldemort, would we not also do anything to convince ourselves it was not true?"

"Housing and aiding Pettigrew is one crime," said Clementia Staff coldly, "but there are others. Black was involved in at least one murder attempt-"

"One, I think, we have conclusively proved," said Dumbledore smilingly. 

"At least one murder attempt," Staff repeated. "Misuse of their power as Aurors-"

"We are aware of the charges," said Dumbledore pleasantly, waving a hand. "And I do not intend to have us forget them. Merely, I ask for us to keep them in mind _alongside_ their motives." 

"I'm sure we're able to do so without your interference, Mister Dumbledore," said Umbridge, voice colder and sweeter than ever, but the Minister's face had changed.

"Do you think we're still looking at Azkaban?" Idina murmured.

Severus pressed his face into the expression it usually was, sure that Rita Skeeter would pick up on an a glower were it there. "I'm not sure."

_Idina had layered spells on top of one another. At least, that was what she had said. She was channelling the power taken to destroy a Horcrux into a spell supposed to break blood curses, presuming that the immense destructive power would be enough to break Herpo's magic with brute force. Severus knew she preferred to do things more precisely, but she still understood very little about the curse and what triggered it. It was likely that not even Herpo knew. And investigative work would take a long, long time - time she was not prepared to sacrifice to the portrait's bidding. The risk with this method is that it was an enormous amount of power for one witch to channel._

_Her chant finished. She swayed as if she was going to collapse, and then put her hands over her forehead and started to scream._

"Alongside service to the Dark Lord - which entailed both performing and aiding murder, torture, and terrorism, Peter Pettigrew is charged with three accounts of attempted murder, evasion of the law, and an illegal Animagus form," boomed Agrippina Selwyn, quivering with righteousness. "We the court sentence him to life in Azkaban.

"For one account of attempted murder, evasion of the law, misuse of power, and harbouring a fugitive, we sentence Sirius Black to two months in Azkaban. We the court have agreed to minimise his sentence due to reminders of Mister Black's family history and role in the war.

"For evasion of the law, misuse of power, and harbouring a fugitive, Lily and James Potter shall be stripped of their role as Aurors and each fined a thousand Galleons, to be paid to the Ministry of Magic. They will never be further employed by the Ministry of Magic.

"For evasion of the law and harbouring a fugitive, Remus Lupin shall be fined a thousand Galleons, to be paid to the Ministry of Magic. Additionally, his crimes will be placed on his record, and prevent him from ever receiving Ministry employment." 

_At least Dolores will be happy,_ Severus thought viciously, keeping his expression politely neutral as the cameras began to flash. Once the room began to disband, however - as Black and Pettigrew were led away, and Potter and Lupin were screaming out, holding onto their best friend, and Rita Skeeter was sprinting as close as she could get to the carnage without being injured - he stormed his way over to Dumbledore, who was looking more sorrowful than Severus had ever seen them.

"What - was - that?" he hissed. 

Dumbledore met his eyes, and his were oddly piercing. "Severus, if you think that seeing your once-enemies-"

"I'd say that they were far more solidly my enemies than they were before, what with the _attempted murder."_

"Severus, you are coming _away_ from this bitterness, this anger, this darkness. That which gripped both you and Peter, and has started to take ahold on Sirius - both of which, unfortunately, I am powerless to save from Azkaban-"

_"Unfortunately?_ The two of them both committed all they were charged for."

"As did you, my boy, as did you. And yet, you are a far finer man today than you were than when you were tried. I doubt that Azkaban would have that same effect." Dumbledore gave him another piercing glance, and Severus felt uncomfortably reminded of his Hogwarts days, however long ago they seemed to be. "But you have in no way grown fully. Take this moment as a lesson. They have received punishment, and you have received victory. This is not the time to lament that they will not be in more pain than they are. _Go,_ and make something of yourself. Unless the Fates plan on spinning threads of such rare colours that we cannot perceive them, Peter Pettigrew will never receive the chance you did. Nor the love." 

_The portraits in the corridor began to scream with her. Idina's legs buckled - Severus hissed, and went to clutch her hand-_

_-and the screaming stopped._

_"Idina?" he asked, his voice sounding oddly loud in the sudden quiet. "Idina?"_

"Idina! _Idina-"_ The ranting dissolved into more Ancient Greek, although Severus got the gist. Herpo's eyes were burning, and he was jumping up and down in fury, although he could not leave his frame. Idina had discovered _that_ rare curse a while ago, and was delighted to be able to finally use it.

"Quiet, Herpo," she said, voice soft. _"Quiet."_

"Are you sure about this?" Severus asked, eyeing the portrait in apprehension. "You've never used this spell before."

She flashed him a smile. "To your knowledge. Besides, it's not all of them. I've even decided not to burn my father, although I might relocate him once we move back in here." 

"How generous of you," he said dryly. "Well, go on then."

Idina took a deep breath, and stepped closer to the portrait. "Your great failure," she whispered, making sure that she met his eyes, "has failed completely." 

And she cast the Fiendfyre over his howls.

_She jerked up like a bucking horse, eyes wide and terrified. He could hear the portraits in the corridor moaning. She had her hand over her heart._

_Severus cursed, and gripped her scrabbling hands. "Can you tell me what's wrong with you?" he whispered. She shuddered out a breath, tears beginning to burn in the corners of her eyes, but her breath was becoming more steady. "What hurts?"_

_"My heart," she whispered faintly. "My heart."_

_"Physically? Or metaphorically?"_

_"Both."_

Atalanta stopped examining her hairbrush, and turned to stare at Severus as if she had never seen a man before. Today she was wearing a bright pink robe - the cloth was clearly cheap, like the type you'd use for a Muggle t-shirt, and patterned with a series of colourful birds - and an enormous tulle skirt that reminded Severus of the all-encompassing Christmas tree.

"Is that why it hurt here?" she asked, placing a hand over her heart. "The nurses tried and tried and tried, but they couldn't know what's wrong with me. They _still_ don't know what's wrong with me." 

"You can tell them," said Idina softly. 

Atalanta looked up at her, a brow beginning to furrow.

"It is as Severus said, Atalanta. The curse is broken. There will be no repercussions - from it or from me - if you wish to discuss it, or any aspect of your childhood, with the Healer." Idina's jaw twitched. "Or with myself, even. Severus - suggested to me some time ago that there may be things I do not know."

Atalanta looked at her with wide eyes, eyes that you'd think were uncomprehending if you were easily fooled, but Severus knew she had understood even before she nodded, blonde curls bouncing over her shoulders. "Is there more?" she asked patiently, when the silence had stretched on uncomfortably long. 

Idina swallowed, and then offered a smile. 

"Yes. If you'll consent to change clothes, I have permission from the Healers to take you out to tea. You, Severus and Megaera. Your niece. It will be your first time meeting her." 

_"Maybe you should go to St Mungo's," said Severus, after he had cast all the diagnostic charms he knew. "It's normal for blood curses to affect the body, although they don't usually do permanent damage unless they're done wrong."_

_"I didn't do it wrong," she said huffily._

_"I didn't say you did. It's just that most blood magic isn't three thousand years old."_

_She rose to her feet gingerly. "If the portraits are anything to go by, Atalanta will be in pain too. Someone might make the connection."_

_"The curse is broken, Idina. It doesn't matter now if one or two people begin to suspect, or even if you wish to talk about it with a Mind Healer, or myself," said Severus gently. "There will be no immediate damage to you for telling someone. Certainly, there will be no danger at the mere risk of someone making a connection so distant from the holistic truth."_

_Idina put a hand to her hair to fix it, eyes wide. Severus didn't think it had sunk in, yet. It would take awhile to deprogram herself._

_"Alright. But - what should we say?"_

Caroline smiled. "There you are!" Lorna began to toddle determinedly forwards to greet him. She would always be frail, but she didn't seem to know it, and was far more active than Megaera, who was babbling delightedly at her friend. 

Roberta smiled as Idina and Caroline swept to the sitting room. Chantelle was there too, eyes bright; for her part in their defeat of Clayborne, she had gleefully decided on the tutoring as her payment. The children were too young yet, but she looked eager to discuss it with him.

"And how are you, Severus?" 

He thought about the answer, and then blinked in surprise. It felt completely truthful.

"I'm fine."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for reading! I hope that you've enjoyed it. 
> 
> There will be a one shot before the chaptered sequel to bridge the gap between works, and as I've said previously, the upload frequency will remain the same for the foreseeable future! Thanks again!


	43. Breaking Fangs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry if you thought this was a bonus update, but I come bearing news!

Someone reminded me that certain readers might be subscribed to individual works, rather than the series. So this is just a way of clarifying that while 'Tracking the Scent' is no longer available, the sequel 'Breaking Fangs' has been published. There's further explanation on that work of my decision but this is just to let anybody who feels invested in this series know. I sincerely apologise for any inconvenience/confusion as well as the general frustration for this situation.


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